


How Far He'll Go

by mhs0501



Category: Moana (2016)
Genre: Almost Sex, Death, Depression, F/M, Friendship, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I can't even, M/M, More Chapters to Come, Nudity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Polynesian Culture, Pressure, Recovery, Sina is a saint, Tui is bisexual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8742235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhs0501/pseuds/mhs0501
Summary: As the son of the village chief, knowing his place is essential. There are parts of his life Tui still won't talk about, what became of him from taking his role in a place where everything is by design. Knowing is one thing, following is another. His best friend, Alaka'i, knew he had to choose his own path.It still hurts even to this day. But that doesn't mean he ever forgot him.Idea I had where Tui's friend was his lover, and told before the events of Moana. Hope you like it!





	1. Where You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I had this idea the second I got out of the theater and had to give it a shot. I want to give Tui more of a reason for his behavior, and his relationship with his friend seemed like the most realistic choice. I hope you all like this fic because there will be more of it!

Tui sat on his knees at his mother’s side, looking around the expanse of short grass. The orange glow of the torches illuminated the area in a soft golden glow, leaving soft shadows on faces chattering and laughing with contained excitement. The collective feeling of joy seemed practically electric. The men joked, the women grinned, meanwhile the children shook under their parents guiding grasp. Some had flowers strewn in their inky black hair to signify the occasion. Men donned their best jewelry from the endless blue of the sea.    

 

The teenager smiled as he looked around at the people, _his_ people. There was a feeling of contentment deep in his heart when he looked at them and realized how happy they were under his father’s rule, as they had been for nearly a hundred generations. The cliffs and mountain which eclipsed the stunning, vibrant flora and fauna had stood tall and strong, its shadow having lived through a millennium of ingenuity, culture, ancient tradition. For centuries, they’d grown taro, coconuts, yams. For centuries they’d fished, diving to the reef for priceless, shiny treasures.

 

Tonight was a night of celebration for the ancients, as the new moon this time of year signified what had begun as a small circle of huts to form what was now their home. There would be feasts, games, song, dance. Tonight was a celebration of everything they were as a community and as a family.

 

As a child he’d squirmed in his seat having to watch the dancers, wanting more than anything to disappear to wherever his personal playground led him: the jungle, the caves, the fields, the groves of coconuts, the beach… anywhere which offered a new discovery. But his father had been quick to dismiss his desires, albeit gently.

 

“Tui,” He’d gotten down on one knee to look his four year old son in the eyes one night before the festivities had begun. “One day, you’ll have to learn that we all have a role on this island.”

 

“But-” His father shushed him.

 

“I know it’s a lot right now, but in time, you’ll realize that you’re meant to do great things.” He free hand drifted to the sharpest tooth on his necklace, the glistening whales teeth having rested on his clavicle from the day his own father had passed to the other side. “This necklace carries responsibilities that you’ll have to carry one day. This island of ours is a beautiful place, filled with people who need someone to keep them safe, guide them on. You need to know that all you need is right here, in your people… understand?” He chided softly as Tui looked at the grass, despondent.

 

His hand trailed his son’s chin up to face him. “Happiness is where you are.”

 

The beat of a drum had ended the conversation, and he’d waddled back to the circle, where he belonged, his father guiding him on the right path; what he thought was the right path.

 

“Everyone!” His father’s voice shook him from his memories. “I am proud to announce tonight will be our apprentices first dance, as they’ve worked hard enough for this day.” His smile widened as the dancers came walk into the performance area. Front in center, sure as he’d hoped, stood his best friend Alaka’i.

 

It had been months since he’d seen him dressed so elaborately. Shortened grass skirts covered what was only just necessary. Long tubes of woven grass climbed his shins. His chest was bare and showcased the body-wide tattoo’s, including a dark inked sun which branched across the right side of his chest. Sleek lengths of black hair were barely hidden under a headdress of scarlet leaves and cyan feathers, and his tanned features were framed by lines of white paint, dots scattered along the two lines which ran down his cheeks. In the light of the torches his tawny skin shined like the blinding edge of the sea.

 

Their eyes met, and the dancer’s grin grew into a smug and snarky one, black brow raised. Tui gave a small wave before he could stop himself, recoiling his hand before his mother or father noticed.

 

“These fine young men will lead the next generation. I see a bright future ahead of us.” Tui grew heated as he realized the entire island was looking at him. Thankfully the attention didn’t last long as it returned to his father. “but for now, we shall celebrate our tradition with the ancient dance of our ancestors. Let the the festivities begin!”

 

One of the teenagers let out a cry, signifying the others to start their movements. The dance itself had been performed by Tui himself almost every year, the sixteen year old having the island’s best teacher, Alaka’i’s aging uncle who’d looked after him. His deep brown eyes trained on his best friend as he moved the spear in his hands, hips shaking to the rhythmic beat of the drum. He watched each step with baited breath, the villagers laughing and clapping along to keep the tempo.

 

All the while, that smile remained, and he almost wished he had the mask the two dancers were wearing, because it took quite a lot out of the chief’s son to hide the look of helplessness in his eyes.

 

* * *

 

“So, how’d I do?”

 

The chief's son spun around, jumping at the voice behind him. His feet anchored themselves back into the sand and he thanked himself for the darkness which blessed the coconut groves at night.

 

He chuckled a bit as his friend’s question. “You’re telling me you didn’t notice any of the deafening applause that followed your dancing?”

 

Alaka’i came closer, taking off the headdress and holding it to his side. “Please, for all I know they have to cheer.” With his other hand he began wiping off the decorative face paint with a lick and an index finger. “And you were the one who gave me lessons.”

 

Tui crossed and arms and raised an eyebrow. “Says the guy who also forgot his uncle is the best teacher of the ote’a on the island.”

 

He rolled his eyes with a smirk as he dropped the massive plume of leaves and feathers to the wayside and sitting on one of the rocks nearby. “We both know you’re the one the children aren’t afraid of learning from.”

 

It was well known to the people of Motonui that Alaka’i’s uncle was a little less than ordinary and had been for years after his nephew had come in his care. With the scary stories he wove in the evenings about the gods and goddesses unleashing mystical beasts upon the seas it was no surprise the only company he received was from curious children and the occasional student; which Tui himself had been both.

 

“Well he’s the village crazy man. It’s his job.” He joined his friend next to him with a sigh, and Alaka’i nudged him playfully.

 

“Ha ha… very funny. But did I do good?” The dancer pressed, leaning in closer until Tui rolled his eyes with a smirk and returned the favor, pushing his friend off.

 

“Yes. You’ve excelled my best expectations as a teacher.” He patted him on the head childishly. A moment of silence passed between the two teens as Alaka’i scooted closer. The ruler-to-be gave him a small smile and turned to face him. In seconds, their noses touched, and they each took a breath before a small kiss was exchanged. Tui counted his quiet blessings that they were alone.      

 

Work rarely happened in the bare groves since the biggest harvest had been completed and practically the entire island was in the center of the village enjoying the massive feat of fish, fruit and pork. He hadn’t felt up to eating much and slipped away for a moment’s peace since it was becoming clear in the past few months that his father expected him to start looking less at the island and more at what it had to offer in the form of eligible young ladies who were more than interested in the prospects of the chief’s son instead of the general assortment of hunters and fishermen.

 

That wasn’t to say that their relationship at it’s surface would be frowned upon. It was not uncommon it see partnerships or intercourse with the same sex. The villagers didn’t value anyone’s sexuality less than they did their own. There were even tales of wise male chiefs in the past who’d taken men as husbands and women who led successful generations with wives. What Alaka’i was wasn’t the problem. It was who.

 

He was of the lower class on the island, just barely beneath the rank of Toa. With his crazy uncle being the only family he had left, and the fact that he was barely able to bring in his share of taro or coconuts, status affected him more than anyone cared to admit. Tui’s father had told him that the people of Motonui shared everything they made, joked as the weaved and fished, danced under the stars as a family and as a community… but even they had values that extended beyond the kinship. It was how it had always been.

 

Mana weren’t meant to be with Toa, at least not beyond cordiality. Touching, kissing, intercourse; they were tabu, and a very real threat. There were remnants of what his grandfather and family before him had done to those who broke that law. If it were known that there was more than friendship between them, Alaka’i risked being banished or even killed, if his suspicions were correct.

 

It wasn’t a risk he was willing to take in the privacy of their own homes, much less in public. They still had moments and places where they could strip their titles along with whatever they wore for a good time, but Tui knew that with what his father expected of him, times like those would wash away with the foamy blue tides. They didn’t talk about what would eventually have to happen as they grew into maturity and their roles. Alaka’i especially didn’t want to talk about it, even when prodded. It was one of the few lines Tui didn’t dare cross.

 

“So why aren’t you at the feast?” Alaka’i asked after finally breaking the kiss. “The women have really gone all out this year.”

 

The other teenager looked out at the line where the stumps stopped and the jungles began. “I just wasn’t feeling up to it tonight. Dad has been on my case about picking somebody, and--”

 

“You’re not happy about it?” He guessed. Tui nodded. “Well what is this really about, then? Him forcing you to choose someone, or you being afraid to choose someone?”

 

He looked hard at his friend, unsure if their was any form of jealousy or malice in his heart. That was one of the few things he’d never understood about his friend. At times, there was no telling whether he was joking or making a serious emotional rampaging observation. If anything, this time, his sparked eyes and snarky grin said otherwise.

 

“You don’t mind?” He asked, somewhat surprised. Alaka’i shook his head. “Are you going to tell me why?”

 

“Well, I figured you’d need to pick someone… better than me eventually.” He sounded slightly hurt in saying that last part, as if a bitter taste had overcome his tongue. “But I don’t think it means anything really has to change, unless you say so.”

 

Tui bit his lip, unsure what to say in response. Alaka’i sighed with a lopsided smile.

 

“I’ll always love you, Tui. I have since we were kids. But sometimes our paths go in ways we don’t want them to. I don’t want you to feel any kind of pressure from me about making the right choice. Even if you love someone else, I’ll always be here for you.” He pulled his face towards his and pressed his nose against the chief-to-be.

 

He smiled softly, clasping his hand around the dancers. “I know. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

“Glad we had this little chat, then!” Alaka’i kissed his nose before pulling away and hopping up from the rock. “Now come on. Your parents have probably noticed you’re gone by now.” He collected his headdress, studying it for a moment as Tui stood up.

 

The next thing he knew it was on his head, albeit lopsided and more than likely stupid looking. “You like it, chief?” Alaka’i joked, looking his boyfriend over.

 

Tui sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’ll make sure it ends up at the bottom of the ocean by morning.”

 

“Come on,” He exaggerated his tone to garner sympathy for the terrible fashion choice. “I think you look fit to rule. It suits you.” The dancer barely finished his sentence before catching it inches from his face.

 

“Ugh, leave that talk to my dad. Not for a few more years, my friend.” Tui concluded as he started to walk back towards the village center, the central hut pouring golden light onto the ground from the many windows. The sounds of chatter and song could be heard even from the great distance away. Alaka’i followed behind, donning the ceremonial garb as he would for the rest of the night.


	2. Consider The Coconut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist the title... anyway, hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Also, Sina's surname translates to farmer; field worker, which I thought worked pretty well. And Kanaloa's name means water, which I thought would be anice touch for their heritage.

When he first met Sina, she’d nearly killed him with a coconut.

 

This was in no way intentional, of course. Chief Kanaloa had been clear upon his decisions that Tui be groomed as his successor since the young boy was old enough to toddle around the island, and as time passed and his son matured, the expected duties of chief needed to be shown if there was to be any chance of Tui being a successful leader to his people. Of course, Kanaloa by no means underestimated his son’s potential to do exactly that. If anything, he overestimated it, much to Tui’s annoyance. 

 

Since the festival of thanks, his father had given him the official headdress of tribal succession, a festive and obvious symbol of his rank and power, something he hardly wanted to be reminded of. This meant his role as the son of the chief was to increase exponentially, regardless of what he said or did about it. Alaka’i had been rather smug about it the first few days, and with minor prodding Tui had to begrudgingly admit that his boyfriend’s headdress was obviously the better of the two. The teenager had no particular qualms about Alaka’i’s prediction of chief-life to be true, their relationship dilemma aside. He held a great amount of pride for his home and the wise people whom he would rule for his lifetime and whomsoever he had as a successor, be it child or wife. He wanted to help them and guide them along the path towards greatness-- he knew whether or not he did would depend on the ease of transition.

 

This, unfortunately, meant he had little time for anything anymore. Kanaloa had shed his special garb and bestowed his position upon his son, shadowing him around the taro fields and coconut groves and letting everyone pick his brain for advice and instructions. At first, Tala had accompanied to two, but seeing that there was little tension, figured her presence wasn’t necessary and went off to continue telling stories to the younger children in addition to managing the fishermen’s quota.

 

It had been in this time, as he strolled about the grove in his chiefly wear with his father trailing his footsteps, that he’d gotten sidetracked by one of the elder villagers asking him to judge between two obviously identical coconuts. He’d given the chief an incredulous glance, but it became clear from his non-verbal brow raising that there would be no exceptions.

 

Of course, nobody had planned for a third fruit to join the decision, and the massive coconut missed the teenager by only an inch at most. Almost everybody jumped back and the elderly woman quickly dropped her prized coconuts and ran away towards the village center, yammering in panic. Both Tui and his father turned their heads in the direction of the trees top.

 

A girl about his own age clung to the tree, obviously trying to hide herself behind the narrowing trunk. When it became clear that the two most important people in the village were aware of her mistake, she stuck her head out from her hiding spot, silky waves of rich brown hair swaying in the breeze.

 

“I’m so sorry about that!” She called down, waving at them in earnest with one hand floating from the trees thick bark.

 

“Where’s your partner?” Kanaloa called back, noticing the empty space where a villager would usually be standing, ready to catch the ripened coconuts picked from the trees.

 

The girl looked around for a brief moment before turning her head in the direction of the village and then the other parts of the grove before a look of realization passed over her face, brown eyes widening and lips parting before she cringed. 

 

“Um,” She bit her lip. “She just ran off into the village.” She admitted sheepishly.

 

A moment of silence passed as the chief processed the information, Tui having picked up the coconut and studying it before tossing it as well as the discarded ones into the woven basket at the tree's base. Kanaloa eyed his son before looking up at the girl who watched the chief-to-be with a skeptical stare, as if surprised he knew anything about grove work. A smug smile spread across his face. 

 

“Son, I think you’ve learned enough for today. Surely you can work with--” He trailed off, glancing at the teen for an identity as he simply didn’t possess the knowhow of everyone on the island, regardless of his position.

 

“Sina Mahi’ai!” She offered loudly as Tui listened to the exchange, blood stilling and a groan boiling to the surface as it became apparent what this was in his father’s eyes.

 

“Sina,” Kanaloa corrected himself. “For the rest of the day, maybe learn the trades?”

 

Knowing that there was no way or even reason to refuse, Tui nodded, trying to hide the look of contempt on his face. He by no means wanted to be forced or even guided, necessarily, into a relationship when he was perfectly happy with Alaka’i. He knew it was rather childish to assume what they had could go on for much longer, and that he needed to try and make peace with it. Alaka’i had even given him his explicit permission to fish in other parts of the reef.

 

And it wasn’t even necessarily wrong for him to do so… it was just that while one of them was fine with polygamy, he knew better than to practice what he preached for their sake. Tui also didn’t have an issue with such a tradition-- it was even a coveted part of being chief. He simply couldn’t see himself giving his heart to more than one person. It seemed ingenuine and fake to do so.  

 

He was so deep in his annoyance and thought he barely caught a coconut that his newfound worker had tossed down to him. 

 

“Careful!” He waffled as he took a step back, the headdress falling off of his head. He could see the amusement on Sina’s soft features as a massive laugh erupted from her mouth. Though the chief’s son hardly found the situation amusing, he found himself laughing as well if only out of confusion.

 

“Haven’t you ever caught a coconut before?” She responded, swinging around on the trunk slyly as if to flaunt the talent she’d obviously perfected since she could first toddle. 

 

Tui wasn’t very amused. “Of course,” He answered hotly. The smug little grin on her face made him even angrier. “I’m just a little out of practice!”

 

Even from nearly one hundred feet up, he could tell she was rolling her eyes as she selected a particularly ripe one and gave a shout of warning before tossing it down. “I’m sure being the chief’s son is an exhilarating practice.” She smirked with slight sarcasm.

 

“Trust me, it really isn’t.” He deadpanned, dropping the fruit into the steadily disappearing basket.

 

“I figured.” Sina nodded, picking another one and observing it for a moment. “It might just be the wind up here but you don’t seem very happy about this arrangement.” Another pause.

 

Tui huffed. “Well I don’t think my dad was fooling anyone.” A grunt came from above and he watched slightly impressed as the girl hurled the coconut off into the jungle before turning her attention back to him.

 

“How so?” She asked, shimmying further up the trunk a bit before picking another one and passing it down. 

 

He caught it easily. “He’s been on my case for a while about picking someone to settle down with.” From above he would hear her expression of understanding.

 

“Not surprised. My family’s never been one to shoot for the stars; so to speak.” Another coconut sailed into the lush green treetops. “We’ve always been more grounded to our roles.”

 

“It doesn’t look like you take that phrase literally.” Tui observed with a chuckle as he looked at the distance between them both. Sina shared it after a moment of consideration.

 

“Good one!” She crawled around to the other side of the trunk, gazing down on him. “I’m a little surprised you’re not already spoken for.”

 

For the second time in a day, he felt his blood run cold even in the summer’s heat. He felt his mouth go dry and the heat rush to his head. He thanked the gods that Sina was way too far up in her tree to notice his embarrassment. She did however, notice the uncomfortable silence, and looked down at him quizzically before glancing around the bustling grove. Thankfully, she didn’t delve any deeper. At least, not technically.

 

The topic quickly changed to the subject of family. In that time they learned they were both only children, and that Sina’s family consisted of her, her aunt, and grandmother, the later of which had been her helper in harvesting the months coconuts. He also found out that she wasn’t courting anyone, despite it being the appropriate time. They kept at it, joking and inquiring, long after they’d finished three trees and the sun had started to set.

 

“What were you saying earlier, about your family not shooting for the stars?”

 

Sina sighed as they walked along the edge of the jungle, the soft sand of the beach caking to their bare feet. “It’s really the law of the land, right? We’ve been Tohunga for as long as we can trace back. Status is still a big thing around here, even to my family.”

 

_ Especially my family, _ Tui thought as they walked through a clearing out onto the edge of the island where the waters danced under the golden orange light of the blazing sunset. Tohunga was the designated middle class of Motunui, often said to be the easiest, as jobs and oftentimes relationships weren’t restricted. Apparently, Sina lived on the grittier end of the oar. Barely within his reach and borderline Tabu. Borderline.

 

She tugged on the necklace of pearly cowrie shells “We’ve always been farmers, born and bred on it.” A brief chuckle escaped her lips as she looked at the endless tangerine sea. “My gramma has always said: consider the coconut… it’s kind of our family motto.”

 

Tui burst out laughing. It was actually a really charming phrase.   

 

“We’ve always been Mana.” He said after a moment and a look from Sina. “courting is pretty restrictive, if you haven’t already figured that out.”

 

“Just what do you take me for?” She joked, nudging him playfully. “You know, if you’re seeing someone, you can just tell me.”

 

“Not happening.” He rolled his eyes. She scoffed almost mockingly.

 

“Come on, Tui, why not? I’m just curious!”

 

The teenager’s grin faded, realizing that she was serious. “And you won’t tell anyone?”

 

Sina looked confused. “Why would I?” Tui opened his mouth to respond but quickly shut it as her face slowly dawned with the realization, eyes wider and brighter than the setting sun which framed her slim body. She’d answered her own question before that same sly look curved up her lips.

 

“He’s a Toa, hm?” Her hands poised on her hips as she delivered her guess. The chief’s son narrowed his gaze, trying to read her inner emotions which her tawny skin and luscious brown eyes hid quite well. Before he could stop himself he was nodding, the lightheadedness taking over as he suddenly sat down on the sand, realizing he’d just broken their promise not to breath a word of their relationship on Motonui.

 

He felt as if that coconut had hit him square in the head and he was now hallucinating as a result, the world suddenly becoming quieter and cloudier. Those words felt foreign. Toa was hardly a word of disrespect, but it still felt dirty to associate someone as kind as Alaka’i or anyone of his people for that matter with a status that kept them beneath others in principle. He’d watched time and time again as the monthly harvest came in Alaka’i alone in a field of taro with his share of work not even started or sneaking into the grove at the darkest parts of night to finish his quota of coconuts early to take care of his uncle. 

 

Despite the paradise Motonui was, and the kindness he and his people shared, there were always a few who were left to the wayside or ignored. Rarely was anyone other than himself around to help his boyfriend as by that point the others had retired for stories from the elders or to enjoy the fruits of their labor. 

 

Sina joined him on the rock and giving him a pat on the back. Tui gave her a look. “Alaka’i hasn’t been the luckiest man on the island. You two have been friends for a long time.”

 

“Is it that obvious?” He questioned urgently. Sina quickly shook her head.

 

“Us Mahi’ai women have our gossip.” She smiled knowingly. “Trust me, I don’t think anyone really suspects you two. If anything, those girls at the feast certainly haven’t stopped talking about you.”

 

A wave of relief washed over him like the current of a dying tsunami, calming and gentle. He breathed a sigh, tucking his knees towards his chest. “We’ve talked about ending things.” 

 

“You know, I’m not surprised, about you two being a thing.” Sina answered. The chief's son looked her over. 

 

“Why?”

 

“You know why.” The coconut farmer smiled. “Your family has led this island for nearly thirty generations, and with their rule they looked beyond status in favor of what was best for their people. You’re no different than them, Tui. You don’t care about his status, you care who he is, and you love him for it. He obviously isn’t afraid of the risks, and neither are you.”

 

He nodded with a puff of stressed air. “I get it, Sina.” He answered with a tiny smile.

 

“I don’t know if you do.” She stood up and walked towards the edge of the beach, the black basalt warm underfoot. He asked what she meant. She sighed. “If you know what’s good for you, don’t let someone like him get away.” 

 

He stood up, joining her at the edge. “I’m not about to.”

 

For a minute, they stared out at the sea, the tides falling and rising. She was about to say something but as her lips parted, a voice called from within the jungle towards the center of Motonui. 

 

“Tui! Sina!” The chief’s voice echoed in the foliage. Tui suddenly turned to face her, a tiny, mischevious grin on his face. 

 

“He’s coming.” He looked back at the edge, where the beach ended and the rich, dark soil of the jungle began. Footsteps could be heard crunching on the green leaves of the trail. “How about we give the chief a bit a of show?” 

 

Sina barely had tome to respond before she leaned in towards him and the two teenagers kissed, timing the display of affection perfectly as his father came through the vines at the exactly the right moment. The taste of salt and coconut water lingered on their tongues as the pair continued, lips parting like a fish deprived of precious water. They both completely allowed the moment to overcome them until it became apparent that they were pushing the limits of his suspension of disbelief. Tui broke the kiss first, staring into his newfound friends rich eyes. 

 

He now had a very powerful benefactor on his side, as well as a new companion. And he was not about to waste this opportunity if it would make his father satisfied. Their secret was safe... at least for now.  



	3. That Voice Inside

“So your father doesn’t suspect anything?” 

 

Tui shook himself from thought, removing his hand from where it brushed the growing hairs on his chin. His head turned towards Alaka’i from where they sat in mounds of dampened soil, the first few rows of maturing taro leaves poking up and fanning around them. 

 

“No,” His other hand closed around the carrier pole and swinging it so that the device was perched on his widening shoulders. “Not as far as we know.”

 

Alaka’i grabbed his own pole, standing up and following the chief's son through the plants in the sweltering sun. The small stream carried enough water to irrigate the taro roots properly on a regular basis. However, on particularly hot days the people of Motonui were better off safe than sorry. 

 

The line of maneuvered water sat at the edge of the field, the silver line widening as they got closer. “And how was the kiss?” He smirked coyly.

 

Tui humoured him, filling his buckets. “Not as good as yours.” He admitted. Alaka’i didn’t look convinced, his smile widening. 

 

“Was it at least up there?”

 

“Alaka’i--” 

 

“Just tell me!”

 

Tui rolled his eyes, settling the water pails on his shoulders. “You and Sina are way too alike.”

 

“So that’s her name?” He prodded. When Tui said nothing his response was clear. The validation in his guess connected to many other things. “Good catch my friend! She’s quite the keeper.”

 

His smile faded as he removed the teeming bucket from its hook, dumping it into the moist soil and refreshing the warm plant. Something in his boyfriend’s tone tugged at his amusement, bringing it into the cool depths of the sea from the warm heights on the blazing sun. He took a breath and sighed, wiping a layer of sweat from his brow. Not looking back to him, he chose his next words carefully. 

 

“You’re acting a little eager.” He tried not to make it as accusatory as it sounded, but it had been bugging him subtly since that night in the coconut groves during the festival of thanks. 

 

Even though he couldn’t see him Tui could tell Alaka’i wasn’t laughing anymore, and a moment of silence passed as the realization dawned on him. The moment was rather short, and for some reason it worried him even more. He knew that his friend had realized months ago-- possibly from their first time or even their first kiss, that they couldn’t be together; not on Motonui.

 

He narrowed his gaze as a dry patch of roots that needed attention, despite his attention being focused on the man behind him. “What are you trying to do?”

 

“Tui, please...” 

 

He could tell Alaka’i was now trying to cover himself. A part of him wanted to hear the full story, to be more level headed. Be what his people needed him to be, be what  _ he _ needed to be. But it wasn’t like his boyfriend to keep secrets. The worst part of it all was that Tui knew exactly what was coming, and didn’t want to hear it.

 

“Don’t push me away.” His voice felt parched. Alaka’i was silent, and the knot in his stomach tightened. “Alaka’i, look at me.” He turned around, seeing the other man’s face aimed at the ground. 

 

Neither of them wanted to admit it. Tui took a step forward and gripped his shoulders, the sudden touch making Alaka’i jerk away, sucking a breath through his teeth. The chief’s son gaped. He smiled emptily. 

 

“New tattoo, remember?” He prompted, the black lines of ink weaving into the figure of a skimming sea turtle on the back of his shoulder, the creature coexisting with the sun at it’s side.  

 

Tui frowned. “Don’t change the subject.”

 

Seeing there was no way out of this, his grin faded with a depressed sigh. “We both knew that this was coming, Tui. I thought I told you the same thing months ago.”

 

Tui felt his heart quivering, a small crack at the very center. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” He shook his head, his temper coming very close to the edge. “What I want to know is why you’re so eager to push me away. You might’ve said that I’d pick someone else, but that’s not what I want.” He felt salty tears in his eyes. “You know that, right?”

 

Silence. 

 

“Well?” He almost choked out. 

 

“I knew it all along.” Alaka’i answered monotonously. “But I knew that it wasn’t worth what would happen to you.”

 

Tui gaped. “Me?” He almost laughed despite being very far from such a feeling. “ _ How _ are you worried about  _ me _ ? What about  _ you _ ?”

 

Alaka’i glared. “Tui, look at me. Look past what you want to see and just look at me for what I am.” He gulped. “What am I?”

 

“My boyfriend.” He answered affirmatively.

 

He wasn’t amused. “I’m a _Toa_ , Tui. A _Toa_. I’m the bottom of the barrel, the lowest of the low. You know it, I know it, _everybody_ knows it. _I don’t matter_ to this island. But you?” He narrowed his gaze on the maturing chief, fear evident in his eyes. “You’re the next in line. You’re Manaia. You’re what matters. You’re who everyone will look to for a leader. Motonui needs you to be chief. I don’t care what you pull to try and make us happen, because it won’t work. There are things on this island beyond our control, and I’m not about to be the reason the last chief is kept from doing what you were born to do.”

 

His response came out small and quiet. “What makes you think I want any of this?”

 

Alaka’i scoffed. “You don’t get to say that, Tui. Don’t even try to deny it; I  _ know _ you. Every time you help someone, I can see it in your eyes. I know you care about everyone on Motonui, and you’d do anything to please them. It’s who you are.”

 

The chief's son quickly returned his best friend’s glare. “No one tells me who I can or can’t be.”

 

Alaka’i’s face softened, realizing he’d hit a nerve. He paused, looking him up and down. His stance was intimidating, massive arms crossed in defense of his reasoning. His tone was soft and apologetic. “You don’t need me to tell you, Tui. You already know it.”

 

As the words sunk in, his anger melted away into his tawny skin, regret surfacing through. He felt the heat rising into his face with embarrassment, and his bushy brows sloped with the corners of his mouth. 

 

“Alaka’i,” He started to apologize, but was cut off by the sudden warmth of his breath, the dampened brow pressing into his forehead. This was followed by the bridges of their noses, then the tips, connecting. Even in the humidity of the island climate, it was almost a sickly form of comfort. He still felt an empty form of regret, despite being forgiven. But it wasn’t exactly about his snappish attitude towards what was the real problem.

 

It wasn’t really true, what he’d snapped about. It had been a desperate attempt to trick himself into believing that he actually controlled something he knew deep down that there was no control-- only gentle prodding with maneuvering from the hands which had cradled his head as an infant. Even from the very start, even before he was even a distant dream of his father’s future, he had been destined to guide his home through the future until his own children came into the world. His future was his people’s, regardless of what he may have wanted otherwise. And he’d been right-- about everything. He wanted to fulfill his father’s dreams, fulfill his father’s role, be even better than what he had been. He loved his home more than anything. He loved his people, their families, their zest, enthusiasm, kindness, and that he would know them all. He would be the light which would raise them higher and higher, and he wanted it. He  _ needed _ it. 

 

He needed to change it. To show them all that names weren’t important. That despite his status, he was no more worthy of greatness than anyone else. That Alaka’i, his uncle, and countless others didn’t deserve restrictions when they worked just as hard as everyone else. 

 

But he couldn’t. It just wasn’t that simple. Changing centuries of tradition and lifestyle couldn’t be done in the course of his lifetime… could it? He knew better than to assume everyone would readily accept what he wanted, what he was. And that didn’t even begin to describe what he needed to be while his father was still around. He still had many years left, if the island’s physicians had any truth to their practice. Would his even father understand? Would everyone else understand?

 

His boyfriend wasn’t all that cryptic in what their love could become. It had been crystal clear since their first kiss that they needed to tread carefully even in the presence of only the island’s flora and fauna. It could have easily meant the end of his family's rule and the end of Alaka’i’s lineage, and they knew nothing Tui said or did would help matters. 

 

And yet, there they were, in broad daylight, lamenting what they’d known was coming. Through every dark night they’d taken the risks to be something where there was almost nothing before. Even when they were friends, it had been obvious that there was something more there. Sina was right. It wasn’t worth giving someone like him up, not when they still had time. His father was satisfied, and for the moment, that’s what mattered. He may have wanted to be chief, he may have wanted to be with Alaka’i. What stopped him from wanting both?

 

He felt his soft fingers brushing a strand of wavy, black hair from his face, perching it behind his ear from where it dangled out of place in his outburst. He smiled, tucking Alaka’i’s hand in his own.

 

“Come on,” He chuckled quietly, knowing they’d have time to discuss this later. “I think the taro can live another few hours without water. I know I could go for it right about now. What do you say?”

 

The other man stared deeply into his eyes and pressed his forehead, touching noses again. His chin barely slid upwards, planting a kiss on the tip of Tui’s nose. He’d take that as a yes. 

 

* * *

 

The sun was beginning it’s descent down to the briny depths as the two teenagers raced each other to the gleaming laplets at the ocean’s surface. The sky seemed to burn in the balmy atmosphere, the edges of silver stars coming out to play in the coming soft purple and pink hues. The first layer of sand burned underfoot like hot coals as Tui bounded across the lengthy shore, tanned feet kicking minute storms in their wake. The blood coursed through his veins like molten lava, his breath panting from dashing halfway across the island, erupting in exhausted laughter without a care in the world.

 

The hard surface of the dampened ground was a welcome feeling to his singed toes and soles, the endless line of the horizon beckoning Tui closer to the cool water’s salty embrace. The smash of the first wave across his chest threw his balance for a loop and he was left to tumble into the crystalline shallows, the surface temporarily broken. 

 

“ _ Cheehoo! _ ” Alaka’i cheered as he suddenly exploded from the edge of the jungle, shattering the minute churning of waves and gusting wind. The other teen was barely able to brace himself in the water before he cannonballed off the edge of the sand and into the deep orange body, tumbling beneath the waves and kicking alongside the currents.

 

Within seconds he resurfaced, flipping his long black tresses back behind him as he laughed almost maniacally. Still in the shallows, the Toa stood up, and Tui was barely able to stop himself from tackling Alaka’i before anyone saw him there, in the buff. He hadn’t even noticed his friend’s discarded tepeneu from where it laid on the sand.

 

“What are you doing?!” His elation suddenly fell as flat as Alaka’i’s clothes. He could barely keep the terror from his voice. 

 

“Swimming.” He replied matter-of-factly before diving under the waves again. 

 

Tui groaned, chasing after him on foot into the deeper water until he was left to tread with much resistance. “No no no no no,” He was scowling now. “You know what will happen if anyone sees us like this?!”

 

“Absolutely nothing, my friend.” He mused, floating on his back and doing a quick circle around the chief’s son. 

 

“Are you kidding me?! Your clothes are right--” He was stopped by a massive wave of salt water splashing him in the face; either a plot to keep him calm, shut him up, make him angry, or possibly all three. 

 

“What they can’t see won’t hurt them.” He rolled his eyes with his signature mischievous smirk. “Tui, come on. Let loose for once! We’re off the side of the village, out of anyone’s line of sight. You  _ did _ want to have some time alone, right?” He questioned, raises his eyebrow coyly. 

 

He bit his lip for a split second, pausing as his scowl quickly faded. It wasn’t like seeing Alaka’i naked was anything new to him or vice-versa, and the fishermen rarely worked past the west side of the island. People rarely had reason to leave the village for the beach, and where they were was rather secluded, a small sheet of basalt sliding to the lip of the shallows. It had been months since they’d been able to get anyplace where they could share each other, and by now his lower half was starting to disagree with playing it safe. It was already mast stiff. Of course, they’d never tried anything underwater before, but there was a first time for everything, right?  

 

Untying the knot of his tepeneu, he tossed it over to the basalt ledge where it landed in an ungraceful heap. He had barely taken another breath before Alaka’i tackled him into the water, wrestling into the sand as the two played like two feral hogs, squealing and splashing in the ocean as they had when they were knee high. The taste of salt lingered on his tongue as Alaka’i suddenly kissed him full on the lips, the tender touch an almost forgotten feeling with his expanding roles as chief. It was hardly traditional, but something about it felt dangerous, and in the best way. It symbolized their relationship beautifully, breaking the boundaries and traditions set centuries before. It was no replacement for the deeper connection, but no one would be seeing them out here.

 

Through the water he felt his boyfriend’s hands caressing his legs as he got to his knees, fully prepared to service his chief he he’d done countless times before. His member was barely bobbing on the surface, between the water and the air. He could feel the warmth of Alaka’i’s breath on his mast, his tongue suddenly going dry in anticipation, his hand snaking down and gripping the lengths of silky black hair in its bun. It had been too long.

 

The sound of humming in the not so distance jungle made his eyes snap open as his grip suddenly tightened, Alaka’i whimpering in pain. With a hushed plea for silence he shoved his boyfriend under the waves and ran through the water until his lower half was safely hidden.  

 

His skin flushed and heat rose to his face once again as his eyes drifted to the beach where both  his and Alaka’i’s tepeneu laid at the edge of the water. It would be a dead giveaway to whoever was coming. Suddenly he could hear a gasp from the currents a few feet ahead and saw him resurfacing, gasping for precious air like a beached fish. He avoided facepalming. Alaka’i had never been good at holding his breath. Realizing that fact himself as if it had been the first time, the winded man threw himself in a seemingly random direction towards a more stable hiding place just as the brush vines began to tremble under the touch of a hand. This could not get any worse.

 

The vines parted. It was his mother. 

 

Apparently things could always get worse. The gods above were mocking him. He could almost see the trickster Maui’s rotten grin somewhere in the golden sky behind him. The feeling of embarrassment was burned into his back, and he fought the urge to make a run for it. But it was far too late for that. The absolute last thing he needed was for his own mother to see him rolling in the water with the most tabu soul on the island.

 

Tala was the equivalent of a ripening mango. She wore beautiful, bright colors in her ‘ie toga, and was tart and rebellious in her youth before ripening into a sweet, delicate fruit with the first few wrinkles of age dancing along the edge of her soft eyes. She was of a decent home and family, having been somewhat selected by Kanaloa similar to that of Tui’s own situation, but had grown to love her husband dearly through their years of ruling Motunui together. Tala rarely fancied to sit for anything other than the festivals but frequented council meetings whenever her husband gave her his signature softy look, and was often a presence which was largely ignored by most. She had not asked to be married to Kanaloa or what came with being married to him, except for the desire to raise what would shape her home for many generations to come. Where his father lacked talent, Tala more often than not made up for it. But with his tribal duties and her… hobbies, Tui supposed; they hadn’t spoken in what felt like months.

 

Granted this was the least opportune time or place to talk, but Tala certainly wasn’t the sort to march him into their home and demand decency. Wherever the water flowed, she was certain to flow with it, his father had always said. 

 

“Tui!” Her mouth split into the widest smile he’d ever seen on Motunui. “What are you doing out here?” It was in a playful tone and innocent enough a question.

 

Lie. “Just taking a swim, mother,” He chuckled, trying to hide the anxiety in the back of his throat.

 

“I see.” She raised a deep black brow as her gaze drifted to his tepeneu. His face went red and a nervous grin etched across his blushing cheeks, a hand worriedly tracing the inked designs on his upper arm.

 

He needed to change the subject. “Is father looking for me? I’m not in trouble am I?”

 

Tala grinned slyly. “Not unless he comes around and sees you.” For a split second Tui wondered if he should just come clean and leave, but as he inched forward on the squishy sand, his mother spoke again. “You’re welcome to continue. I gave birth to you, you know.”

 

He froze, eyes darting over to the direction Alaka’i had swam off in. There really was no response to that. So instead he dropped to his knees and swam a little closer. He didn’t exactly know what he was supposed to be doing, as it was clear she wasn’t just coming to check on him and leave. He actually couldn’t describe _what_ she was doing now. It looked like dancing.

 

“Is _this_ what you’re always off doing, mother?” He watched in slight confusion as the aging wife began humming softly and swirling her hands in a soft, gliding motion.

 

She gave him a knowing grin. “What did you expect, that I’d be the bored wife? Your father and I agreed on this long before we married. I could dance with the water, he could be the serious chief, and  _ you, _ ” She chuckled, doing a graceful turn on the basalt floor. “You could choose your own path.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like him.” His gaze fell to the crystal clear waters.

 

“And yet that hasn’t stopped you.” She continued wistfully, arms rolling with the tides. “You are your father’s son. It’s easy to be swept up in what he says. You might’ve followed him one way, but you follow yourself another.”

 

Something in her tone, her eyes, her smile, made him pause where he sat, knees feeling weak. It was clear as the water that she wasn’t fooled by his excuse, or anything else he’d been putting on. He might have fooled his father with Sina’s help, but even that night through Kanaloa’s prideful boasting over a dinner of pork and taro, he had seen through it to his mother’s look of suspicion, in all its playfulness. It was so like her to hint and joke about things. He hated it at times, particularly because it meant nothing could really be put past her. 

 

But he didn’t know for sure yet, so it was best to play it safe. “What are you talking about?” He hoped her answer wouldn’t be all that specific, but she could see every grain of his worry as clear as the sand which surrounded her on all sides.

 

“You might be fooling your father, Tui.” She dipped her hand towards the water with her hips shaking like a gentle breeze. “But trust me, I know who really has your heart.”

 

“Who did you have in mind?” The manai wanted to crawl into a cave and die.

 

She rolled her eyes, giving him her signature look of knowing what she wasn’t meant to know. “That familiar looking boy who swam off to the west and forgot his clothes right here. I trust you’ll take them back and tell him to be more careful with where he takes my son? We wouldn’t want his father to find out.”

 

Tui swallowed a lump. “You’re not going to tell him?”

 

She cackled boisterously. “I’m his wife. I don’t have to tell him anything!”

 

“So you don’t mind?” He stood up and took his tepeneu from where it rested at his mother’s feet, feeling the dates which his fingers had become by now. “You don’t mind what he is?”

 

She paused, allowing herself to fall into the winds guiding hands as she danced slowly to the rhythm of the island. “Tui, as long as he makes you happy, that is all I desire from him or her, regardless of what they are. It’s an old thing anyway. I promise you the second you’re chief you can do something about it, and I won’t stand in your way.” She breathed a small sigh on contentment. “Your father might be a bit stuck in the old ways, but you’re under no obligation to follow him. There’s a voice inside you Tui, that will tell you what to do eventually. You may not have found it yet, but when you do, know what it means. It’s who you are, and son of the chief or no, you need to make your own choice, regardless of who it is.”

 

He stood and turned towards the direction Alaka’i had disappeared to, tying his tepeneu around his waist once again to spare his mother any extended views of what no one else needed to see. Then he was caught with the light of the sun, where the light hit the edge of the sea. It was almost blinding.

 

It occurred to him that he didn’t know what or who to follow, be it his father, his mother, Alaka’i, Sina, or himself. He hadn’t trusted himself to make his decision on his future, not when he wanted two things which simply couldn’t coexist. His mother’s statement of change was barely even wishful thinking at this point. And even if he could change what his boyfriend was, what were they to do with each other until that day came when he placed his stone on the mountain?

 

Sina was a complete saint for putting up with such a messy situation. Could he really expect her to keep this up for possibly years? Then there were his parents. His mother swore not to breath a word but what of his father? He would eventually know, that much he could concede, but when and how was much more crucial. One thing was for sure, they couldn’t afford to slip up like this again, even if his mother did understand, next time, they more than likely wouldn’t be so lucky. And Alaka’i, the one who would lose everything if their secret was known, would he be able to tolerate them sneaking kisses in even more privacy, accept that they would more or less be forced apart by either his chiefly duties or even Sina? He knew he had a big heart and was almost overly tolerant, but nothing like this had ever happened before. What was to say his positive attitude wasn’t temporary?

 

He felt the blood pounding in his ears as the waves embraced his shins. He had plenty he needed to figure out within the next few days if he was to be certain things stayed the way they were. There had to be some kind of solution to it all. 

 

_ That voice inside is who you are. _ His mother’s words echoed around in his skull. 

 

He suddenly pushed forward, walking around his mother and back towards the jungle and the village. He needed to find Sina and Alaka’i, wherever they were. He wasn’t going to be able to figure his next few moves out on his own, even with his mother’s acceptance. If he or Alaka’i were to have any future on his island, he would need to know what they needed to do. 

 

The manai took one last look at his mother from where she swayed upon the basalt ledge, eyes hut in concentration as she danced with the sparkling waters of the orange horizon. A smile curved up his face. He had the perfect idea of where no one would see any of them, and there would be no interruptions.

  
He could only hope that the ocean would allow it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my best to show that Tui is an even mix of both Tala and Kanaloa, since he wants to rule his island and make his people happy, like his father, but wants to break away from some of the rules and norms, like his mother (at this point she isn't the village crazy lady yet). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	4. And No One Leaves

There was a feeling tugging at his gut as he sat on his knees, stomach empty but without a desire for anything to fill it. It distracted him from taking anything off of what he’d heaped onto his trencher, and left his mouth parched and his hands clammy where they rested at his sides. His parents sat on either side of him, their shadows framed in the light which framed through the windows and traced rosey lined along their tanned, aging features. They chatted mundanely enough, Tui barely giving any input aside from the occasional nod of agreement to save face and refusal when his father asked him if he wanted anything else in terms of dinner.

 

It was a typical feast of poi, lush fruit, leftover pork loin and coconut water. It was also one of the few nights in which Kanaloa retired from eating with other families and dragging Tui along for gracious accommodations and awkward questions the manai certainly didn’t feel comfortable answering.

 

More often than not it was a thorough blend of personal inquiries or advice, the later of which he was no better at giving. Had he not known any better he would’ve suspected his father had arranged his people to be more invasive at some sort of annoying test for his readiness to take over.

 

“So, how do you like the mangoes, Tui?”

 

“Tui, what should I do about the leak in my roof?”

 

“Is the harvest good this season?”

 

In a way, it was even worse than what Kanaloa usually did, parading him around Motunui like a prized idol to be stared at and practically worshipped. Because at least in those cases, there was usually the occasional mishap to guide the attention away from him or at least give him better insight. Here, however, it was nothing but the sitting across from families both large and small with people he somewhat knew but couldn’t hope to remember past how burnt their chicken was or soupy the poi had been.

 

At first when his father had flagged him down shortly after his conversation with his mother he’d been dreading the next dinner out, not even knowing who it was with. He’d had all the embarrassment and exposure of his inexperience he could take in one lifetime, much less one day. When Kanaloa had said it would just be dinner with family, he had been skeptical, then relieved, then actually excited.

Then, he’d remembered as he sat down that the situation had changed.

 

It may have been awkward being forced to talk with his people over such riveting conversations as the yearly monsoon season, but it was nothing compared to sitting between the two people who shattered any faith Tui could’ve mustered in his plans, be they immediate or distanced. The worst part was he couldn’t decide if it was better or worse that his mother knew about his relationship and he had no way of confirming her to secrecy other than blind trust. It was like she didn’t deserve it, but there was a sense to his mother that said his secret was safe for much longer.

 

It clawed at his stomach. If she said anything, he wanted to be as far away from either of them as possible. He needed to find Sina. Find Alaka’i. Find _both_ if possible. At the very least the two of them needed to meet, and at best they needed to understand what had changed and what could be done about it.

 

After they’d kissed that once on the beach to satisfy his father and keep the spotlight off of his lovelife, they had reached a mutual agreement. For all intents and purposes, they were courting if only to hide his secret from unwanted attention. At best, it resulted in the occasional quiet night on the beach, chatting and getting to know his benefactor better. All of those times had happened because Alaka’i’s home was dark and a torch could was nowhere to be found in his usual places. What exactly he chose to do with his time was entirely his business, and Tui knew he had to respect that. If anything, it was nice to at least feel a little more honest in his conversations with his father when the topic eventually shifted back to him and the capable coconut farmer.

 

Sina seemed perfectly fine to dupe the chief and have an excuse to stay up past the stars even if it wasn’t what they painted it to be to everyone else. It had been fun just laying on a slice of volcanic rock with the waves lapping against the shore, head to head, staring at the illuminated pantheon of the gods and meandering on home well past the final light in the village going dark.

 

And despite his feelings towards being with both Alaka’i and Sina hadn’t changed, it was undeniable that he felt like something was forming between them, even if it was and only ever could be a platonic friendship, and a valuable one at that. There was a feeling of understanding with her in which she had to conform to society as much as him and his boyfriend did. It was nice to know that even if he was next in line to be chief, there were at least two people on Motunui who would see him as more than that.

 

“Something wrong, Tui?” His father stirred him from his elaborate thoughts, the sliced coconut half in his hand having halted between his chest and his lips.

 

A flash of heat coursing through him in slight embarrassment, he set the fruit down next to his trencher. He knew his silence on top of his actions were hardly making his next answer any more believable. “No father.” He answered simply.

 

The chief wasn’t buying it. “You haven’t been eating. I guess my cooking’s not up to par?” A small chuckle left his bearded face as Tala set down her own plate and looked away in a decent show of faux embarrassment.

 

“No,” He shook his head. “It’s not really that.”

 

“Son,” He prodded. “You know you can tell me anything.”

 

The way Tala rolled her eyes nearly made the Manai burst out laughing, but the fear in the bottom of his heart kept his mouth from curving in any direction but down. It was the most cliche thing in the book.

 

He frowned. “I guess I’m just not feeling up to eating tonight.”

 

For a brief moment a silence passed through the hut, the sound of the island breeze suddenly much closer than it had seemed before. Out of the corner of his vision the chief’s son could see the blank expression in his father’s shimmering brown eyes. Tala looked over at him with slight confusion, and through the silent communication of husband and wife, Kanaloa cast a nod at his wife. Without another beat, he nudged his trencher away, and stood up.

 

“Come on, Tui.” He ordered gently, settling an intricately tattooed hand on his shoulder. “There’s something I want to show you.”

 

The young Manai looked up at his stoic parent, a small smile blooming on his aging face like the opening petals of a long growing hibiscus. He looked at his mother, who only grinned knowingly at him as if they somehow both knew where the chief wanted to take him. Not seeing any easy responses, he sighed and pushed himself up, steadying his growing body before realizing he was eclipsing the chief in height like an emerging pole. Noticing the same with a half lidded stare, his father huffed and walked out the door, Tui following along out into the light of the setting sun.

And with their departure, Tala grinned to herself and went back to her mildly burned pork. They had much to talk about up there.

 

* * *

 

As the path began to slope upward and the homes of their people began to shrink to miniscule size, Tui suddenly realized where his father was taking him. The vibrant flora jutted out of the hexagonal stones carved thousands to years ago into the face of the mighty mountain, the brilliant scarlet-green leaves shaking in the gentle breeze. The scent of salt from the sea and the fragrance of flora mixed into a comforting feeling of paradise, culminating with the scattered sounds of life all around them that weren’t their own.

 

“Why are you taking me up here?” Tui’s eyes snapped to the left and to the right as they kept walking up the gradual curve in the path. “You know I’ve seen the place of chief’s before.”

 

He could see Kanaloa’s soft grin at his head turned back just enough to catch the light of the scarlet sun, the first of the lights in the village bursting to life below them. “Because I think there are a few things I want to talk about, away from everyone else.”

 

His eye suddenly twitched, as if realizing he was lost in the middle of the ocean without any land or hope in sight. There didn’t seem to be anything good that would come out of this time alone. Then he remembered it was his father.

 

“Like…?” He trailed off.

 

“I’ll say when we get there.” He father quipped. It had been what felt like an eternity since Tui had seen his father in such high spirits. Not since he’d seen him and Sina in their deep moment of faux passion. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt anyone.

 

* * *

 

He stared at the short grass of the coconut grove, Sina next to him on the very same rock he always sat with his boyfriend. His arms were folded lazily over his knees, the light of the night’s sky shining above, a deep frown etched into his face. The only sounds aside from his friend’s silent consideration and the distant laughter of Motunui was the song of insects from the jungle not too far off.

 

“Well, you weren’t kidding about wanting to sit down, at least.” She tried to lighten the mood if only slightly.

 

“No offense Sina but I really don’t feel like laughing right now.” He glared at the ground which refused to swallow him whole, despite the fact that he would’ve welcomed the end without another breath.

 

She mirrored his expression, moving a smaller hand to tug at her long curly locks which ran down her right shoulder. “You wanted company.” She bit her tongue in an effort to avoid saying his name. “I guess there’s not really much I can offer if you’re not willing to smile.”

 

Tui sat in pensive thought for a few minutes. “How about a coconut?” He shifted so his prickly bearded face was resting on the palm of his hand.

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yeah. I never ate dinner tonight, anyway.”

 

She huffed out a sigh, pushing herself up from the rock and eyeing a hatchet at the base of a nearby tree, unstuck it from the ground, slid it onto the belt of her ‘ie toga and jumped at the trunk like a cat, slinking up the tall tree and using her weapon to cut the fruit from its loin. It fell to the ground with a _thud_ , and within seconds she was sitting by his side, cutting the the top from the orb with one strike of the sharpened blade.

 

Tui thanked her as he took the only dinner he was likely to get for the next few days, if his father were generous. He shivered as the sweet water trickled down his throat, warming him up in the cool night.

 

After a few good sips, Sina broke the silence. “So do you want to talk about it?”

 

He took another swig, savoring the taste for as long as it would last. “Not really.”

 

He couldn’t help but set the half full coconut on the grove’s floor, unable to take anything in despite how hungry he was. The feeling of shame clawed at his stomach, weighing his heart and intestines like they were bound by heavy weights. He’d never felt so sick in all his life, not even when he’d unknowingly eaten a moldy mango when he was nine and spent half the week bound to the infirmary's bed.    

 

His father had been so worried too. He and Tala both gave up whatever they’d been busy with for half the harvest season to make sure he got better. He remembered the absurd stories his mother had told him to keep him distracted while drinking the best herbs Motunui could offer. Half of them were stories of the hero demigod Maui and his magical hook, able to bend the laws of Te Fiti with one swipe of his mighty weapon.

 

Stars above, he’d give anything to do that now.

 

The Manai brushed his right shoulder where the band used to be a bloody blotch all that remained,, the scarlet band of rare feathers that were once on his arm worth ten times it’s weight in food. It had been passed from generation to generation of chief’s children, both men and women who’d done mighty things in their time. He easily towered over the waist high column of flat stones, moss growing slowly over the marker and making the sacred stones one with the island. He’d looked at the decent specimens, ruling out a few on the grounds of their size. The last time he’d been to the top of the mountain, he could barely seeing the top of what to him was an insurmountable monolith-- a symbol of his place.

 

His father had simply laughed as he watched his only child scout the stones for a decent pick, stopping him before he picked one up. Kanaloa took the band from his ankle, and told him to hold out his arm. Without another word he’d clipped the band around his muscled bicep with a pair of interlocking shells, the tight armband a large step back from the ridiculous outfits he was made to wear when joining his father at the fale. He then told him the significance of the band, how it held a treasure from each part of the island. Feathers from the island’s rarest fauna, woven patterns of coconut fibers for the flora, and seeded cowrie shells around the border to signify the ocean which connected them all to the world. All of it was harvested by the people he would lead one day. It was typical wise advice that he’d heard from his father before, but this time, it came with something else.

 

There was one last step to his training, as it became clear to Kanaloa that Tui was almost ready. He’d predicted that step before he’d even been given the band of his ancestors. He needed to place his stone on the mountain.

 

Once he did, his father’s time as chief would end, and his own time as chief would begin. It was as simple as that.

 

Tui had been given the last piece of his father’s lengthy legacy, one that had stretched for generations so far behind him he couldn’t even fathom it. The final part of his chiefdom lay squarely in his own two hands, and Kanaloa had made it clear that when he did so was entirely his decision.

 

“I’ve guided you all I can, Tui.” He’d answered when the teen had asked when. “I’ve been pushing you too hard, doing this all too quickly. I guess I was so worried about the future I didn’t realize how fast I’ve forced you to grow up.” He sighed. “And that’s why no matter what happens after today, I want to you do this only when you’re ready, and only when you know who you are.”

 

The voice inside was quiet. It had been all night.

 

It had been since the sun went down, when one of the local fishermen had called his father for a moment alone to chat, noticeably avoiding eye contact with the Manai as he spoke in a level voice. Then, right before he took in a mouthful of cold pork, he heard the mention of Alaka’i, and froze. He heard his own name, his stomach lurched. Then, he heard the word ‘together.’ That had been the final straw.

 

The fishermen fished on the west end of the island. Alaka’i had waded west, leaving the ocean after one of the men spotted him in the blue and hoisted him aboard. Seeing the obvious erection and his nudity, it hadn’t taken long for them to put two and two together. There weren’t many other possible answers.   

 

Being alone in the hut since Tala had disappeared to the infirmary to check on those who were sick, he rose quietly despite his heartbeat rising at an alarming beat. Blood coursed through his veins as the sickness immediately returned with his knotted stomach. He felt his legs moving. He felt the warm stone steps clapping into his bare feet as he tried to walk from his home with as much dignity as he could muster. He could explain this.

 

Then he saw the look of pure disgust twisted into his father’s face from the door. The silent rage in his eyes. The hard, disappointed frown. In all the times he’d broken the rules he’d never seen his father look so angry. He’d never seen anyone on Motunui face such a look of unbridled wrath. He could practically see lava pouring from him as his fists quivered at his sides. Tui knew he couldn’t leave-- doing so would only incriminate him further. He didn’t even know where he’d go, but he didn’t need to. Anywhere was better than here.   

 

But against his better judgement, his fear easily won out. He barely managed to run three feet from the frame before the chief snapped his name.

 

He’d flinched, teeth clenched and face reddening in shame. The manai tried to swallow the feeling, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. That something, _anything_ would just magically appear and draw enough attention for him to disappear and get off to Motunui. He couldn’t hide his fear of torture, of his fate, of what everyone would say when they found out he was being fucked by a Toa.

 

“F-father,” He couldn’t help his stumbling as he tried to face such an adversary who despite being shorter held more power over him than he could ever hope to achieve. “I can explain.”

 

“Yes you will.” He answered coldly before turning to the fisherman who suddenly looked incredibly guilty. “Thank you for telling me. Please excuse us, I need to have a talk with my son.” The other man didn’t need to be told twice and nodded, quickly making his leave and disappearing down the hill into the village. “Tui--”

 

“Father, please--”

 

“Let me finish.” He growled. Unable to respond, the manai nodded. “I never thought in all my years I’d need to tell you the most simple rule on this island,” He took a breath, trying to compose himself. “You know the rules. You know why we follow them. And yet that’s not enough, is it?”

 

A shaking breath left his chest. “Why.”

 

Kanaloa’s eyes flared to life with anger like flamed fanned in the breeze. “Because it’s tradition.” He snarled. “You’ve got an entire island at your feet but you can’t bother to give up something that could easily mean the end of everything I’ve spent my entire life to build. It all means nothing to you.”

 

“I never said that.” He could feel the fear being replaced by a fiery new feeling that boiled his blood like lava. “And I’m not giving up my birthright just because some tradition says I can’t love Alaka’i!”

 

“Be that as it may, that tradition has kept us where we are.” The chief practically snarled. “And I am not losing you because you decided our most sacred rule wasn’t to be followed!”

 

Tui felt the rage twisting his nerves, pain pulsing through his heart as he struggled to control himself before this situation got out of control. He loathed the tradition that was destined to keep them apart no matter what he said or did. “You always said our people were our family. We can’t keep calling them that if we value some above the rest! You’re a coward if you think anyone else would care! Just because you’re stuck in the past doesn’t mean I have to be!”

 

There was a genuine pain in his eyes and quickly darkened. “That tradition is the reason is the reason we’ve built this great home! If we let anyone be what you are there wouldn’t be structure! Our chiefdom and our lives as we know it would be over!”

 

“No one would dare get in my way.” He growled. “If I announced it to the island no one who mattered would care!”

 

“No one that mattered?” Kanaloa quipped with a greasy tone. “Now who’s the coward? The one who’s too afraid for his secret little lover to take on his duties. You know what that fishermen said to me? He said that he had to tell me because he knew something tabu was going on. He knew not to let his fear take hold. He knew better than you ever did!”

 

He felt hot tears pricking at his eyelids. “I don’t care what they say. I don’t care if it’s against every tradition in the fale. This is who I am, and this is who I love!”

 

“Not on my island you don’t!” He roared.

 

Before Tui could react or retort the brand of his rank, his power-- everything he treasured from his father and from his home, was torn from his arm and thrown to the stones, the cowrie shells shattering to hundreds of delicate white pieces. The spot where the interlocking seashells had been violently tugged burned in his arm, a spot of blood dripping from where the sharp point of their shattered potential to hold the island to his heart. He felt a sharp stab into his chest where the wound bled raw. He felt the tears sliding down his face as he wished to do all sorts of hideous acts to prove his father wrong, to make him hurt as much as he did.

 

But instead, he clenched his jaw tight. “Fine.”

 

With their fight over, he turned and walked away, down to Sina’s hut, convinced her to come to the coconut grove, and beaten her there. He’d thought about getting Alaka’i, but decided against it. If there was any validation of their relationship to be found, despite his words earlier, he couldn’t guarantee them acceptance or safety.

 

Even if their secret was out, not everybody knew just yet. They had at least a few hours before the sun rose and gossip would spread to every part of the island like the darkness of Te Ka. He had eight hours, maybe less, to think of something that would get him and Alaka’i out of this mess. Sina was already ruled out as an option-- there was no use bringing her into this complicated mess. Denying wasn’t possible either, as it was clear from the fisherman who reeled his boyfriend in that the odds of that working weren’t remotely in their favor.

 

He hadn’t even entertained the thought of owning up to it, even if it was the most logical option. There was no way it would end well in Alaka’i’s case or even in his or his family’s case. Neither of them were entirely safe from scorn or even death if one person saw the need to go that far on an island with no way out.

 

A way out.

 

“That’s it.” He whispered, leveling his head with the ocean, the endless horizon practically calling his name, the light of the moon reflecting on the tides.

 

“What is?”

 

“The ocean.” Tui answered Sina’s question, standing up from the rock and focusing on the stars as distant clouds began rolling their way from the east. “It connects us to other islands, other places, _somewhere._ ”

 

The girl stared in utter confusion, disbelief clear on her face. “You’re joking.” Although her tone suggested she knew he wasn’t. He didn’t give her a straight answer and instead started walking towards the village.

 

“Hang on.” She stood up and dashed over, standing in front of him and blocking his path. “Let’s think about this before you do anything stupid.” Tui started to glare, but was quickly halted in his advances of malice by Sina matching it to a startling degree. “Look, maybe you’re overreacting to this. Two people, maybe three found out about this and now you’re just going to abandon ship?”

 

“One of those three people was my father,” He growled. “And if we’re not out of here by morning the whole island will know.”

 

Sina scoffed in annoyance. “You don’t know that, Tui.”

 

He tried to sidestep around her. “He made it quite clear that he wasn’t interested in helping either of us.” The farmer was quick and threw out her arm.

 

“But that doesn’t mean you should just give up and run away from this.” She stated with a raised brow. "Doing that won’t fix the problem!”

 

“Says the girl who’s got nothing to lose!” He knew he wasn’t about to just knock her down and go on his way, but he certainly felt ready to toss her into the ocean if it meant she wasn’t going to do anything but shut him down.

 

She narrowed her gaze, suddenly starting at the manai. She started to walk forward, and the chief was so taken aback as he realized he’d hit a nerve with his big mouth. He reeled back, unable to do much else as it was clear some forced apology wouldn’t fix the problem.

 

“I’ve got nothing to lose?” She was surprisingly threatening for how quiet she rounded on the taller of the two. “Remind me, Tui, because I’m curious. Who decided to risk her neck getting involved in a messy love triangle so you and your boyfriend could stay safe, huh?”

 

Though he knew it was useless, he tried calming her down. “Sina, please, I didn’t--”

 

“Say it all you want your majesty!” She thrust her face close as Tui felt his back press into the trunk of a coconut tree. “But don’t you dare forget that whatever happens to you, I could’ve just backed out. But I’m not immune to the same fate as Alaka’i just because I’m Tohunga. You don’t get to throw your privilege at me by saying I’ve got nothing to lose. Did you _ever_ use that big brain of yours to realize that?”

 

Tui flushed pale as Sina backed up a bit and crossed her arms, waiting for a response. He shook his head. “Why did you bother helping me then? What did you possibly have to gain from this?”

 

“Gee Manai, whad’ya think? I knew you needed help, and despite what I’ve said before, I looked up to you! I love Motunui as much as you do and I don’t want to watch it burn all because you decided to run off. My job was to distract your father from Alaka’i so you two could have a shot at making this all work.”

 

The teenager glared. “How did you think we were going to make it work?”

 

Sina groaned. “By at least trying to be honest coconut head! If we kept this charade going for years all three of us knew it would eventually have to end. And when it did, I’d have thought you’d have had what it took to own up to yourself instead of thinking the two of you disappearing into the night would do anything other than get both of you killed!”

 

Tui paused, scowling more at the rapidly appearing holes in his plan than at Sina. But what was the alternative knowing that despite whatever dangers there were on the open seas couldn’t compare to what would become of either of them by the next sunset. There was a significant chance he would never see him again, if the council were to have their way. Very few of them were lenient on defying tradition, that much he could understand from sitting through countless meetings. Of course, since no one dared defy such a revered part of their culture, the punishment hadn’t been dealt in what was likely many lifetimes. He didn’t necessarily know if Alaka’i would be killed directly, but there was a sinking feeling in his chest that whatever punishment he and his boyfriend would face could be worse than death.

 

“Sina, please.” He pushed himself off the trunk and walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder as she turned away. He could tell she was close to tears. “It might be bad out there, but what’s the alternative? I can’t pretend like I care if they won’t give me a chance.”

 

“You don’t know if they will.” Her voice cracked. “They might.”

 

He almost didn’t want to say anything, not wanting to push her any further away. But the thought had nagged him since he’d realized his feelings for the optimistic yet down to earth Toa.

 

“And what if they don’t?”

 

She turned to face her friend, her eyes filled with tears as she gazed up at him with fear widened eyes. She bit her quivering lip, horrible thoughts zooming through her head. Without another word, the farmer threw herself at the Manai, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing into his chest, burying her face on his tattooed shoulder.

 

He held her close as she sobbed into his form, knowing that there wasn’t anything she could do to stop him now, no matter what she said or did. Sina knew when she was beat, but that didn’t mean she was done doing her part. After a moment of emptying her eyes, she composed herself as Tui handed her a leave to blow her nose into. She took it, and her frown turned into a weary grin.

 

“I can’t stop you, can I?” He shook his head. She had to be sure. “Then let’s go. We’ve got a boat to find.”

 

Tui was about to respond with an agreement, but was stopped and silenced by Sina pressing her lips against his, her familiar taste lingering on his tongue. He stared as her form suddenly stopped and turned around, casting him a stage whisper to follow her as she was smart enough not to shout. He stared blankly, still stunned by the suddenly display of affection. It almost felt… real.

  
But he forced himself to shake the feeling. He had a job to do. With little hesitation, he bounded after Sina to make their grand escape as massive storm clouds began to blot out the silver moon, the forthcoming of a storm...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Feel free to comment, kudos, etc!


	5. Now We Can't Turn Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not expect to make this chapter so long but here we go anyway! I hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you all so much for your comments, kudos, etc! Next chapter will be around eventually!

The Mana’i and farmer slinked quietly through the groves and into the village center, jogging past dark huts with the distant light of the main fale casting weary golden shadows into the short blue grass. Over the song of crickets and insects they could hear the scattered fragments of conversation, deep and withered male voices being the majority of them. Tui already knew what the subject of the evening was and didn’t plan to stick around just to be caught, and Sina’s sorrowful frown offered all the clearance they needed to crawl along the stone foundation’s rim unnoticed and out towards Alaka’i’s hut.

 

The vegetation grew thicker as they neared the edge of the village, the arranged stone walls nearly crumbling at the edge having long ago lost anyone who would’ve overseen their fortification and care. Thick vines shrouded the sides of the cleared dirt pathway to a place that seemed almost forgotten in another era of Motunui’s history. The building itself was small and just big enough to accommodate four, but it’s occupancy had shrunken in the last decade. The sea was never merciful to those who fished in choppy waters that laid beyond the reef.

 

Tui could only hope that the sudden shift in clouds meant a dark sky and nothing else. The yearly monsoon season hadn’t started and wouldn’t do so for another week at least.

 

The view from the edge which the small building rested on was a breathtaking one of the reef, the cerulean shadows of coral just beneath the pristine surface of the endless deep blue by day and black currents reflected on the moon’s glow by night. Tui could see as they neared the edge the quiet stir of the tides beyond the healthy ecosystem which their island harboured. The teeming life below dotted the cresting waves.

 

The windows were dark and the door was closed. The sounds of the jungle seemed to dissipate as they neared the quiet dwelling. It wasn’t rare to see such a sight at night what with his lover’s nightly escapades to catch up on the harvest and the only other occupant being an elderly man in need of rest after years of dancing to the rhythm of their ancestors and the pulse of the island.

 

But still, given the circumstances, Tui couldn’t help but feel anxious as they neared the door and gave it a gentle push. His heart practically leapt into his throat as the shadow of a crouched figure loomed across the floor, the fading light of the moon his only source with which to work with. He spun to face the intruder, knife suddenly barred.

 

His face twisted between a mixture of horror, anger, then surprise. His brown pupils widened as he dropped the weapon with a barely audible chink and stood, the shadows over his face not hiding the flush of terror as the blood drained from his cheeks, his mouth opening slightly, then closing.

 

“What are you doing here?” He breathed.

 

“Trying to find you.” Tui’s eyes lowered to the floor of the hut where a decent sized basket was filled with harvested fruits and taro, barely passing the brim of the fiber woven container with enough food to last what looked like a day, maybe two at most.

 

Sina appeared over his shoulder as Alaka’i puzzlement returned. “You shouldn’t have come here.” He suddenly frowned and shook his head, his voice sounding tired and nearly strained. His gaze fell to the exposed stone floor, confusion mixing thoroughly with pent up guilt.

 

Tui took a careful step in, Sina holding onto his shoulder lightly and tip toeing along his movements as if being guided into a haunted cave without her consent. The hut was dark, black inky shadows covering nearly every corner. The woven mats for sleeping were scattered messily about, and the entire room seemed to be in a state of disorder, with certain things removed from their normal places-- fishing traps and clay ware were scattered messily along the floor, also including the top blanket and various mementoes. But most unsettling was the gentle stillness of the home, one usually broken by quiet snoring.

 

He fought in his mind which questions to ask first, but Sina’s worried touch and the nagging tones in the back of his mind reminded him that they barely had time for talking, much less explaining the events of the day or why the hut was quiet. He’d had his conclusions within moments and the painfully guilty look on Alaka’i’s face said more than enough.

 

“Why are you packing?” Tui asked as he dropped to his knees and began helping him put his things in the basket.

 

“Why do you think?” The Toa responded without a beat. “After today there’s nothing left for me here.”

 

“You beat us to it.” Sina nodded as she joined her friend on the floor to pack.

 

“What?” Alaka’i looked at the pair, head tilted at angle his long hair helped intensify.

 

Tui immediately went to work filling another basket, noticing that there wasn’t much else left to add with ample room to spare. “We’re leaving.”

 

“We?”

 

“Tonight.”

 

“All of us?”

 

“No.” Sina shook her head. “I’m not going.”

 

“Tui, wait.” Alaka’i reached over to the Manai, hand brushing over his tattoo where the scabs of his former brand still healed. “You’re not going.”

 

The chief to be sucked a breath through his teeth, yanking away as the pain blossomed on his arm, hearing him wince a quick apology. “Yes I am.”

 

As his eyes opened he was met with a withering scowl, one he rarely saw from him. He had been so accustomed to Alaka'i's cheery smile and jokes this felt more painful than the touch to his arm. “What did I tell you today.”

 

It wasn’t a question. “That I knew who I was.”

 

“Then why are you doing this?” He seemed to be losing his composure but something deep within kept him anchored to the floor.

 

Tui smiled hopefully. “Because it’s what I want.”

 

“No.” Alaka’i no longer scowled. The look on his face was matching to that of a man holding the edge of a cliff by one hand and desperately hoping for a way to be safe. A fear of falling; of tumbling into an endless darkness even Lalotai couldn’t hope to match in all it’s horrors. “It’s not.”

 

A moment of silence settled over them both as Tui’s own smile fell into a matter-of-fact frown. “I’m done with letting him tell me what to be. I don’t care what he’s got planned for tomorrow. I never want to see him again if it means you’re going to be hurt.”

 

“I told you.” Alaka’i was nearly shaking, the fear of his fate clearly setting in no matter how much he played it off in favor of the Manai. “I told you it doesn’t matter.”

 

Tui stared with a heavy lump in his throat, his heart breaking at the sight of someone so selfless they were willing to sacrifice themselves for what was the greater good, being forced to follow through and count down the hours, minutes, seconds, they had left to relish it. His sun kissed skin, his long silky hair, the numerous bumps and bruises he’d obtained scraping by when he deserved so much more than his status ever could have allowed. His detailed and inked tattooes stretching across his back, chest and shoulders, many of which Tui had sat and comforted him through, showing his ties to everything he’d helped to build for himself. The sun, the sea turtle, the intricate designs, patterns and dots which arched around it’s massive shell, each a scar from a day spent hoping, longing for more after so much had been taken from him.

 

He’d watched so many nights, aiding his exhausting efforts in the groves and fields for as long as he would let him, which oftentimes wasn’t long at all. Carrying what he could to the main fale without anyone else to help him and barely getting enough rest to smile on the mornings Tui would wake up beside him somewhere out of the way, sheltered from the world and it’s cruel inner workings.

 

It had always seemed that like no matter what Alaka’i did to pull himself up from the bottom, something inevitably would come down like a coconut and knock reality into his skull yet again. Now, he’d just lost the last possible thing tethering him to the island aside from Tui himself-- and even then, he knew their chances of continuing were slim.

 

Tui leaned across the basket, hand tracing the tattoo and fingers squeezing the toned muscle. His forehead pressed against his lovers, the feeling of attachment returning and leaving the excuses for staying on Motunui muted in the wake of their love for eachother.

 

“You matter to me.” He stated bluntly in a hushed tone. “You always have and you always will; I promise. Please,” Alaka’i was shaking, the first few sobs quaking in his chest. “Don’t you ever forget that. Promise me.”

 

He could hear his Toa’s fearful whimpers through his sadness, but it wasn’t the answer he needed. “Promise me.” He snapped, nudging his forehead closer as his hands steadied the weaker man in his grief.

 

A moment passed as the Manai let him try and compose himself. There would be time for that on the sea. “I…” He took a breath. “...I promise.” He finally said.

 

Before another second passed Tui slinked his other hand around to cradle Alaka’i’s head, fingers running through soft black waves as he pulled him close and kissed him deeply, briny moisture pressing between hot cheeks. Their tongues intertwined between their lips, warmth spreading like it was their first kiss all over again.

 

“I swear to Te Fiti, we’ll survive this.” He stared intently into his lovers full eyes. “I can’t lose you. Not when there’s something I could do to stop it.” Alaka’i stole another kiss, fingers brushing along his back and careful to avoid the cut.

 

“There’s nothing here for me anymore.” He said again after breaking the kiss. “You’re all I’ve got left.”

 

“And nothing on this island is worth coming back to if I lost you.” Tui replied softly, holding him close.

 

“Aw…” Sina’s sigh broke the tension along with her heart melting grin. For a moment the manai had completely forgotten they weren’t alone, his passion bubbling close to the surface as he held his lover close in what felt like the first time in forever.

 

They were together for what felt like hours before Tui finally broke away, knowing regardless of their plan’s success that time was fleeting. “Okay. We need to--”

 

“Get packing?” Sina finished for him, holding up a full bag of what looked to be both basket’s worth of fruit and a second one at her knees where she sat.

 

Alaka’i let a low whistle escape his lips. “Thank you Sina.” He exclaimed as he stared wide eyed at the supplies.

 

The coconut farmer grinned slyly. “I wasn’t about to ruin the moment. You two are too cute for me not to help. Don’t mention it.”

 

“We won’t.” Tui answered, knowing Sina hadn’t meant it as a brush off but a warning. “Alright. We’ve got our supplies… how much is in there?”

 

Sina looked confidently at her handiwork. “If you eat generously, a week. If you’re stretching, about a month, I’d guess. And nothing says we can’t make a last stop by the coconut groves if we need to.”

 

Tui and Alaka’i gave eachother a glance, and nodded. “That sounds good.” Tui answered standing up and testing one of the bags. It wasn’t sealed, but if stored properly it could last much longer. It was also one of the heaviest things he’d ever held, and that included Alaka’i. He grunted under the weight, careful of the bruisable cargo within as Sina pushed herself to her feet and helped him take some of the load off by supporting the underside before picking up the other bag.

 

“Flip it over to your back.” She instructed with a groan as she slung one of the bags over her own back, and the manai followed her instructions and ignored the fabric digging into his bare back. It was much better than letting it swing around and mess with his balance, especially considered they needed to be sneaky. The absolute last thing either of them needed was the bag tearing or swinging so hard in a direction one of them would fall over.

 

Alaka’i sighed under the weight of his bag, looking around the place he’d practically grown up in, empty and lifeless with his future railing out the doorway on two feet with their only hope straddled across his back. He couldn’t help but wish there was something else to say-- he’d left the medical hut in such a hurry and none of the women had tried to follow him. As far as he was aware his uncle was still back in that hut, silent as the women discussed the burial traditions.

 

He didn’t want to know what would happen to the body because of his actions today, and if they managed to leave before the night was over there wouldn’t be anything to hear about. It would be best to leave without knowing; otherwise he didn’t know if he could take anymore bad news.

 

Tui’s question snapped him from his morbid thoughts. “Are you alright?”

 

“Yes.” He lied.

 

“Look, I’m sorry if you’re feeling sentimental, but--”

 

“What’s the hold up?” Sina appeared behind him, hands on hips.

 

“Nothing.” Tui sighed with a tone of regret entering his voice and a moment of contemplation passed. “I’m sorry Alaka’i. I’ll give you a minute to clear your head if you need it.”

 

The toa seemed to snap from his trance in that moment, eyes locking onto the dark shadow of the tall teen in the doorway. “No.” He felt a strong tug at his heart as he moved, the bag weighing down his upper back so he was nearly hunched like some monster. “I was just a little lost in thought. Let’s go.”

 

“You’re sure?”

 

Alaka’i nodded. “I’ve made my choice. Now I can’t turn back.”

 

“You guys coming?” Sina whispered from outside the hut. “Because we’ve gotta find a boat with your name on it.”

 

“We’re coming!” Alaka’i answered quickly and trekked forward past Tui who cast one final look at the empty room, noticed a few discarded fish traps, and grabbed them close to his chest with his other free hand. If they were really going to be stuck living on fruit, the least they could do was fish for all it was worth.

 

Tui glanced for anything else useful before shaking his head, suddenly wishing he’d thought to come sooner and say his goodbyes to the man who'd practically raised Alaka'i. But the moment passed, and he followed his friends out of the hut where they trekked along the path, the moon now hidden behind harmless looking clouds which carried the light in their soft, wispy embrace.

 

“So where are we going to find a boat?” Tui questioned as he caught up with the small-talking pair. Sina whirled around.

 

“I let Alaka’i lead the way. He said he knows where to find any boat we’d want, and one we could take without anyone noticing.” She replied hopefully while continuing to walk between the two in their line.

  
“Without anyone noticing?” Tui repeated, immediately unsure of that claim. “Alaka’i what are you talking about?”

 

“I’ll say when we get there.” He replied bluntly. With a brisk pace, they crossed the island with goods in hand, tiptoeing through the fales, groves, and fields with great caution exercised. They were in the final throes of their plan, and the last thing any of them wanted was waking the whole island. Finally after reaching the edge of the mountain’s base, Alaka’i halted at a stone wall, setting his bag at the side and immediately looking over the ordinary surface with cobbled stones poking out in formation-like patterns.

 

“What are we doing here?” The manai stared in confusion at the blank wall. “Wouldn’t it be much easier if we just got a fishing boat?”

 

“Those things aren’t going to get us beyond the reef.” Alaka’i immediately shot back as he placed a hand on one of the stones at his shoulder level. “Besides, I don’t want to steal from anyone or give them a notion on how we’re going.”

 

Sina cocked an eyebrow. “What’s even in there?”

 

Alaka’i spun around, a sudden newfound glee flowing across his cheeks like the swirling tides of the ocean blue. “Boats!” He answered in a hushed whisper of excitement.

 

“Boats?” Both Sina and Tui looked at each other, and back at the teen who nodded assuredly before grabbing hold of one of the stones and giving it a tug only for it to come away easily, much to their surprise. Making haste, he quickly began to pull out adjacent rocks until a decent sized hole was open in the mountain, a clear border of an opening now visible in the light of the torch Sina held up to the darkness as Alaka’i motioned for them both to follow him, easily hopping over the waist high wall as Sina, then Tui finally followed behind and into the mountain.

 

Sina took the lead, torch in hand as the tunnel they entered steadily widened into a massive dome, stalactites and mites slowly growing in like ragged rows of teeth which smoothed out as the dome rose. The sound of rushing water could be heard echoing around the massive walls of stone and volcanic deposit, the feeling of moisture heavy in the cold air.

 

“What is this place?” Tui’s eyes widened as he saw the edge of a waterfall, the crystal blue light filtrating from behind the wall of water as it pounded onto the surface of a ravine, the light of her torch flowing along the dark walls and casting eerie, long shadows along the stone floor as it shifted gradually into golden sand.

 

Alaka’i shrugged. “I don’t really know. All I do know is that someone really went to the effort of hiding it.”

 

He gulped as Sina’s eyes darted around. “Why would they want to hide b--” She suddenly cut herself off with a gasp as her torches shadow revealed a massive shape before them, a wooden barge larger than what felt like an entire hut left grounded on the undisturbed sand, their footprints breaking a pristine stillness possibly having lasted centuries.

 

Tui was so taken aback he nearly dropped the bag from his back, but the fishing traps quickly landed on the ground as a massive sickness overwhelmed his stomach. There was something overwhelming about seeing a drua before them bigger than almost anything they’d seen in their short lives, and the fact that it was grounded somehow made him feel more of it, as if the massive hulls being grounded took thousands of men to move it to such a secluded place.

 

The vessel itself looked built to outlast their greatest descendants, the mast stretching up to nowhere near the height of the massive cave and angled like the spear of ‘Ora, carved out of what seemed like two entire coconut trunks. The hulls easily put their fishing canoes to shame, nearly eclipsing them before the deck began. The sails stretched in graceful and breathtaking arches along the edge of the mast, held in place by a curved frame reminiscent of a cresting wave and had intricately painted designs which stretched along the canvas like a tapestry.

 

It was stunning to imagine such a marvel sitting anchored on the sand instead of out on the water, where it rightfully belonged.

 

The dropping of the torch snapped Tui out of his trance as he saw Sina staring in awe and he followed, Alaka’i quickly ducking to the sand to save their only source of light and doing so within a few seconds. Seeing her astonishment, he followed to where she’d gone around the drua, and felt his pulse skip a beat.

 

Dozens, possibly hundreds of boats were scattered in an oddly orderly fashion alongside the first massive one they had witnessed in the light of the torch, they were all of various sizes, shapes and designs. But even now the light from the night’s sky tinted the white sails a pale periwinkle and the hulls in a darker cerulean.

 

Alaka’i quickly appeared behind the two. “It’s amazing, right?”

 

“You knew about this? And you never bothered to tell me?” Tui questioned, still deep in his bafflement.

 

He looked at his lover with a cocky grin. “If I had, do you honestly think we’d be hiding in the jungle every time we wanted to go another round?” The manai reddened as he could tell Sina was grinning from where she walked ahead, back facing the pair.

 

Alaka’i couldn’t help but grin through his weary excitement even as his uncle’s secret replayed in his mind. “Come on! Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy when I--” He was cut off by Tui elbowing him lightly in the ribs.

  
“That’s enough from you.” He gently scolded, his ears still burning. “Which one should we take Sina?”

 

The coconut farmer cast a snarky grin at the chief’s son that quickly faded as she surveyed the boats. “Maybe we should split up and look? There’s got to be hundreds of these things.”

 

“Well, I think we can rule out the bigger ones and the ones too far on the beach.” Tui observed the closest specimen and gave it a hearty pat, the sound of the wood on his palm echoing softly in the massive cave. It was way too big for just the two of them, much less for the trio to move or steer.

 

Alaka’i passed him the torch and took a discarded pair of them from one of the nearby boats, lighting his own and the second one before tossing it to Sina. “That doesn’t even narrow down to half of them.” He stated. “If time isn't an option, we can’t afford to waste it.”

 

And so Tui was left to wander the maze of massive hulls and sails, torch in hand as Sina took the left edge of the beach and Alaka’i took the right end. Despite the size of the area they were searching for, it didn’t seem like a needle in a thatch stack, and as the time passed slowly, Tui found himself with only one solid looking choice-- one just big enough for the two of them to sleep on the deck and a small hatch for storage by the mast, a decent enough sail drawn and still knotted, as if the owner had left only hours prior. It was about the size of a fishing boat, only taller by about a foot. The outrigger looked a little frail, and there was only one oar, but it seemed to be their best option as neither Alaka’i or Sina had spoken up since splitting apart.

 

“Any luck?” He called from the deck of the small drua.

 

“No!” Sina answered.

 

“Not unless finding an angry crab counts!” Alaka’i groaned.

 

“Then I think I found us one!” Tui looked at the relatively short distance to the water, hopped off of the wooden deck onto the ama, which moaned softly in protest under his balancing weight. Not wanting to risk breaking their best ride, he quickly hopped to the sand and took his place behind the hull, placing both hands at the rim of the deck and gave the vessel a shove. It barely moved, inching across the sand with a soft hissing sound on the golden grains.

 

Sina quickly appeared from behind one of the larger druas and joined him, pushing from behind rather than her front. They felt the heavy hulls slide with some resistance across the sand. Alaka’i was next and joined the pair as they grunted with effort, pushing the decently sized canoe across the beach and within only a few moments of shifting their combined weight, there was a beautiful splash as the vessel reach the minute current and immediately took to the water like a magnetic attraction.

 

A panting smile awoke within the manai as he watched with great satisfaction and their boat drifted quietly into the shallow water, coming to a stop a few feet later with a small jerk, suggesting it was balanced on a sand bar.

 

Alaka’i clapped a hand across his shoulder, quiet pride coursing through his veins. “You may not be the best farmer,” Sina exclaimed as she crossed her arms. “But you sure can follow through on your plans.” Tui gave her a side eyed smirk.

 

“So this is it.” The toa’s gleeful smile suddenly fell into a frown as he looked over at Sina, who paused as her face fell with Tui’s.

 

“I guess it is.”

 

Tui turned to face the girl who was responsible for their lives being spared from unrelenting punishment, who could see between the lines and wasn’t afraid to protect the people she cared about, even if it meant putting her own neck on the line. Someone who could crack a good joke and practically buzzed with enthusiasm like a nectar-high bee. She’d opened him up on so many quiet nights, kept a charade going for months under the chief’s own nose, and all the while nursing the flame of his relationship, letting it continue vigorously when it would have died months ago without any doubt.

 

She was solely responsible for his and Alaka’i’s happiness, and that was something he would never let himself forget.

 

Looking down into her widened brown eyes, he read her mind as she restrained herself and wrapped her in a strong hug and pressed his forehead to hers. He felt a pain in his heart as he knew he would likely never see her again, never know what would become of her-- all he could hope was that she would find happiness where she was, even if he couldn’t.

 

And then he kissed her, soft at first, but grew like a precious flower in intensity and passion as his feelings began to bob towards the surface. It only lasted for a moment before they both pulled away, with Tui wiping away tiny tears from the edges of her glimmering eyes.

 

Then he remembered Alaka’i, and his face grew hot. But when he turned around, his best friend was smiling at them with an ‘I-told-you-so’ look and his arms crossed in satisfaction.

 

“You know, you’re welcome to come with us.” He tempted, having suspected Tui’s shared feelings. He’d expected it, welcomed it, and was almost excited about it. But he knew that no matter what he wanted, his boyfriend’s words and wishes would always surpass his own-- especially on a small drua with just enough room to hold the two of them.

 

As Tui placed a hand supportingly on the small of her back and gently grinned at her, she felt a cresting wave of fear crash through her heart as she looked between her two newfound friends with their near hairbrained escape plan, and the distant light at the small opening in the cave by which they’d more than likely crossed some sort of tabu line. Her grandmother and aunt would surely miss her, but the feeling which tugged at her heart told her she’d miss the adorable couple she had come to know even more. Her life, her skills, all of them were tethered to the island, she genuinely felt herself second guessing it all if it meant finding more beyond the reef.

 

But what awaited her out there? There was no telling where or how far they would go or what would become of them. It was a deeply resonating fear which beautifully coincided with a longstanding rule which Kanaloa had vouched for squarely from instruction, tradition, and the love of Motunui: No one goes beyond the reef.

 

And besides that, she didn’t know if she could settle as the girl in between two people who obviously were meant to be together. Someone like Alaka’i who surely deserved it easy didn’t deserve to have to share his boyfriend with her and only the sea on all sides for what could be months for company. She didn’t have the heart to come between them, even if they thought they could make it work.

 

She had been there to ensure they could be together, not torn apart. As much as she wanted to, she had to let whatever crush she’d harboured over the passing months go free.

 

With a heavy heart, Sina bit her lip, and shook her head. “I can’t.” She answered quietly, her emotion surfacing like massive air bubbles. “I’m sorry.” The farmer forced herself to ignore the quiver on her back as Tui frowned and pulled her into another hug.

 

He gazed down at her fondly. “We understand.” He answered in a hushed tone. Alaka’i walked over and joined them, the three remaining in quiet embrace for a few moments before releasing and turning towards the boat again.

 

Tui grabbed the first bag, clearly not wanting to face Sina again as his emotions were volatile to collapse like a flimsy sail rigging. Alaka’i turned to face her as he stabbed his torch into the sand and picked up the loose fish traps, stringing them together with a length of fiber rope from a nearby scavenged boat.

 

“I really can’t thank you enough, you know.” He said quietly as he knotted the first loop in the coil and ran it through the skinny end of the trap where the smoothly carved hole was.

 

“It was nothing.” Sina answered with a sheepish grin as she hoisted the second bag over her shoulder and moved it towards the water so he would have less distance to carry it.

 

“No it wasn’t.” He shook his head. “You’re the reason I’m getting a second chance and I’m grateful, but I want you to promise me something.” He tied the second trap to the string, a sharp jaerk of his arm tightening the knot.

 

She gave him a bewildered stare. “What is it?”

 

He sighed. “I knew from the moment he mentioned your name there was more going on than he wanted to admit. I know he didn’t want to start something while he still had me. And while I applaud his loyalty, I just want him to be happy. If anything at all happens to me out there and he comes back, I want you to take care of him. Show him he can move on.”

 

“Alaka’i, you know that’s not going to happen.” She felt herself instantly doubt her reassurance, but if she had a change in expression it was too small for the teenager to notice.

 

He chuckled emptily, tightening the final knot on the the third trap. “Honestly, given my luck I’d believe anything at this point. But if it does…” He took a breath mind racing, his gaze focusing on the length of traps before snapping back up to Sina. “Just promise me.”

 

“I promise.” She answered, placing a hand on his where it gripped the traps. “But not until then.”

 

This seemed to cheer him up a bit as a small smile spread across his cheeks and rested his other hand on Sina’s, squeezing it. “Thank you.” He answered quietly as Sina gave him a reassuring nod.

 

“We’ll both take care of him, no matter what happens.” She relinquished her hand before picking up the bottom trap.

 

“I know.”

 

“Then don’t act so worried!” She gave him a small smirk. “I know you’ll keep him safe.”

 

Alaka’i grunted in agreement and let the matter drop. He’d already lost one person tonight and wasn’t about to think about losing anything else, and that included his better judgement. He would be fine out there. Despite his busy life, he did know the basics of sailing due to his parents insistence of learning what was a new family trade. And Tui could learn in time. He had no doubts that there would be trial and error, but they were just going to have to make the best of it. Judging by the light outside, they were running through their hours as the fishermen started at dawn. Six hours would’ve sounded like enough time to distance themselves, but there was no telling how far they would go on their journey.

 

“That’s the last of it!” Tui said from the boat. “Get those traps and let’s get going!” There was a sense of urgency in his tone that had returned, as if he had read his lover’s mind.

 

Not needing to be told twice, Alaka’i bundled the string of traps in his arms and ran towards the water with Sina trailing behind. Tossing them haphazardly onto the deck, he took his place in the knee deep water next to the farmer who was ready to start pushing. Giving her a quick nod, they threw their weight against the boat, and with a resounding creak, the hull careened over the edge, the sudden motion causing Tui to topple over, catching the mast right before he would have hit the ground.

 

“We’re moving,” Tui threw his arm off the boat as Alaka’i took it, pulling himself aboard as Sina watched from the sandbar, slightly winded from shoving the drua off into the water.

 

She felt something bubbling in her throat as the boat drifted towards the waterfall, Tui holding his lover in a thankful hug on their knees, head propped on his shoulder, the widest smile she’d ever seen in her life on the manai’s face. It rose, but as she opened her mouth there was nothing that come out. Silence plagued her goodbye as the front rattled loudly under the pounding stream of the waterfall.

 

She saw Alaka’i pull away, gripping the other teens shoulders as he turned back to see the girl responsible for their safety standing in the water, deep blue lights on the current framing her proud, somber smile. He nearly fell over as he waved, Tui shouting over the rushing water. Sina had to crane her head over the water to hear it, but even then there was no deciphering those last words as they were quickly soaked by the cold water, leaving the edge of the cave and her transfixed in her silence.

 

There was a small pain in her arm as the farmer realized she was still holding it out, as if reaching for them as they sailed further and further away. Sina shook her head, pulling it back as she felt a splitting ache in her chest.

 

Biting back her sudden sadness, she mumbled a quick prayer to the mighty Tangaroa. Those two were going to need all the luck they could get.


	6. Ou Loto Mamaina Toa

In the dark of the night, the fading rays of the moon peeked through the thickening clouds, a silver lining on the horizon. From where they sat, Alaka’i at the drua’s stern, Tui at the mast, the shadow of Motunui’s rocky cliffs and lush green jungles sat silently in the middle of the ocean, an endless horizon to water surrounding them on nearly all sides. The passing clouds hid the stars in the sky, distant waves growing in size and magnitude as they neared the edge of the reef. Through their initial bliss, there had been a small prick at Tui’s chest, the feeling of regret suddenly giving him a pulse of energy as he looked back at his home which was slowly shrinking with their distance.

 

Flashes of his people greeted his mind as he realized that come tomorrow there would be chaos without him in his place. He remembered their kindness. The beauty of his home. The unknown of the sea. His hand drifted towards the mast where the knot of the sail had yet to be drawn with the current guiding them out to the line where the sky met the sea and beyond to who knew what.

 

Then his gaze fell, focusing on Alaka’i as he steered the coconut pole which acted as a rudder. His gaze seemed hard and still, as if he shared his lover’s feelings but couldn’t dare bring himself to either look back or muster feeling for a place which had forced him to mature and work harder for his own life than he knew anyone else did. It was almost like he’d shut off his emotions to ensure his hand wouldn’t be goaded into turning them back despite his possible fears. Tui bit his lip, suddenly looking to the starboard as Alaka’i looked up at him lamely.

 

He wasn’t glaring or even stone faced. He genuinely seemed tired, whether it was from lack of sleep or their physical activities or just the thought of leaving it all behind. He had a solemn frown for someone who had just lost their last family member, as if he couldn’t care less or he couldn’t muster the emotion it took to sever the ties held by numerous generations. That initial glow as they’d shoved off to the sea had withered away.

 

But there wasn’t much to be said. This was their last chance as far as they could be sure. They couldn’t turn back or abandon their course. Whatever awaited them out there, both of them knew deep down that it was much better than Motunui, no matter what they were leaving behind.

 

Letting go of the rope, he kneeled and placed a hand on his tattooed shoulder, looking into his eyes as he pressed his forehead to his lovers in hongi. 

 

 _I will always be with you, no matter what,_  he could almost hear Tui say.

 

Pulling away in silence, Alaka’i nodded slowly with understanding, a small smile blossoming in the fading light of the moon. Tui pulled back wistfully and with both hands on the knot, gave the rope a sharp tug and the sail unfurled, the first big gust catching it almost immediately. The soft whistle of the wind shoved the drua forth on the gradually increasing tides, the manai was almost tugged to his knees by the sudden weight of the breeze.

 

The water coasting off the hulls, the small boat reached the end of the reefs wall. With minimal resistance, the tiny vessel cleared the surface of the cresting wave, flying for a moment before smacking onto the surface and bobbing wearily, a tired groan coming from the ama and a startled cry coming from both of the teenagers. For a split second, the wave blocked the horizon behind them, but with a mighty crash the edge of Motunui was far off in the distance.

 

They’d made it past the reef.

 

Tui could feel those eyes on his back as he regained his balance, his friends hand resting ready on the edge of the pole. Eyes now wide with curiosity, wondering what awaited them now on the vast, open sea. The horizon on the edge looked calm compared to the dark clouds now getting closer and closer.  

 

“We’ll steer around this storm.” He reassured, gripping the rope of the sail tight as he watched the massive sheet maneuver cleanly and the boat began to softly glide to the right, away from the unfortunate looking weather system. Alaka’i complied, and the rudder shifted to match his movements. Silent prayers flooded the manai’s mind. They could do this. They’d made it past the reef. Now all they needed was to find someplace else. It may have been easier said than done, but if those boats had proven anything, it was that the art of wayfinding coursed through his people’s blood. There had to be some sort of instinct to it all that they would learn on the job.  

 

Hopefully. Now was not the best time to be encountering a monsoon, even if fresh water was a precious commodity aboard a ship.

 

Confident that they were at least outmaneuvering the nearest roadblock after what felt like centuries, Tui bent to the slatted deck and fastened the sail to a post to keep it from shifting with the simplest knot he could think of, and rested his arms for a moment. Even for someone who could carry a decent weight and climb a coconut tree, the sail did carry quite a bit of pressure.

 

His lover also expressed a slight grunt as he let go of the rudder for a few moments. Looking at him, the former chief to be could tell he was getting exhausted. He’d lost count of the amount of time they’d been coasting like this. There was nothing but water and mostly clear skies in every possible direction, and away from the lights and distractions of their island, there was a beautiful, breathtaking stillness which embraced their tiny part of the world. What amazed them most, hover, were the stars.

 

Without the light of a torch and near total darkness, every single spec of light from the heavens above could be seen in all directions like the cave of Tamatoas finest and well kept treasures. The shining embrace circled the deep blue and as Tui found himself laying down on the deck he could see every single one them, unable to count or even name half of them. It reminded of those nights with Sina, staring up at something that seemed so close yet for far away, like the horizon of the sea that called him for years in his youth, before he’d realized his happiness was on the island, only to find out through Alaka’i that such a truth wasn’t as easy as acceptance of one’s place.

 

There was more beyond the reef, he used to think to himself before his father began to help him conform. There had to be more to the sea than a line which never ended.

 

He’d always been so sure of his place on Motunui, helping others. But every time he tried to secure his future, something had always made him reconsider, no matter how beautiful a life it may have seemed. He felt Alaka’i laying down next to him, his head and body lined up opposite his own.

 

“Something wrong?” Tui asked craning his eyes to the side to look at his friend.

 

A moment of quiet passed as his friend stared deeply at the glimmering sky. “I guess.”

 

“Well, we’ve got all night.” The manai smiled hopefully. “Start wherever you want to.”

 

He could hear the deep breath he took. “Do you think we made the right call? On leaving like this?”

 

“What other choice did we have?” He lamented.

 

“I know it’s stupid.” He answered emptily. “But part of me wants to believe that we could still just turn around and try again.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

He bit his lip. “I mean wait it out. Wait until morning to see what happens before jumping the island. We’d never know--”

 

“Until it was too late.” Tui cut him off, suddenly worried. “I don’t understand. Why would you want to go back?”

 

“I don’t know.” He tilted his head so he was looking not at the sky but the sea. “It’s just… I’ve spent my whole life working to the bone to prove I’m something. To show everyone that I’m more than a lower class. I mean no one ever said it, but they didn’t have to. Sometimes it was just as simple as me being alone to work in the fields or getting a little less than everyone else, even if they did the same as me to deserve it. I don’t know what’s out there, Tui, and I know you don’t either. What if we don’t find anything?”

 

Tui felt his mouth going dry, not wanting to consider that question.

 

“I’m sorry.” He heard Alaka’i say after a moment. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

 

“No.” Tui said, propping himself up on his elbows and shook his head. “I’m glad you did. But don’t worry. There’s got to be something out there.” He looked over at the other teen, able to see the manifesting fear in his pupils. “I’m not going to stop until you’re safe.”

  

“I know.” He said softly. “I trust you.”

 

“Good.” Tui kissed his forehead, parting the bangs from where they’d fallen out of their bun, then laying back at his side.

 

A gentle sigh came from him. “You know my uncle told me about these boats.” He rolled over to his side. “He said that even back when he was a kid, people would never leave or sail. All of the chief’s before your dad said that no one goes beyond the reef. They were too afraid of what was out there.”

 

“Did he tell you what was out there?”

 

“No.” Tui could tell he was frowning with disappointment, being left with a mystery and no way to ever truly solve it. “But he said long ago, wayfinding was in our blood. Our ancestors journeyed across the world, finding new islands and travelling between new and old homes. He told me…” He clutched a bead on his necklace tightly while looking down at it. “He told me last night that he would see me again on the water, when I found my way home.”

 

Tui gave him a confused side eyed glance. “What did he mean by that?”

 

“Heck if I know.” He answered quietly. “It was all he could say to me before he left.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Tui deflated.

 

“It’s not your fault.” Alaka’i whispered quietly. “I just wish I knew what he meant.”

 

“Well,” The other young man scooted over and pressed his body into his lover’s. “You and I have got a whole lifetime to figure it out.”

 

He felt his back twitch with a dry chuckle. “If we live through this, remind me to thank you.”

 

Nuzzling into his neck, the Manai drifted in his mind, the calming sounds of Alaka’i’s breathing and the splash of ocean waves lulling him to a peaceful sleep for the first time in a warm embrace.

 

* * *

 

There was a distant rumble in his ears as Tui rolled over onto his back, the wood rocking on the gentle tides. His eyes opened to a dark sky, heavy, drenching clouds looming overhead as they blocked the silver stars and their constellations. Pushing up his shoulders, he craned his head as he looked around. What he saw did not inspire any sort of confidence.

 

In every direction there was nothing but an inky blackness which surrounded them on all sides, the skies brewing like a pot of taro on the island. The sea mimicked the motions of the world above, churning in an unsettling manner. His suspicions crawled up his throat lugging with them a heavy lump.

 

“Alaka’i, wake up.” His voice edged with worry as he reached over and nudged his lover who snorted briefly and stirred before looking up with droopy eyes before they widened in concern, realizing that regardless of the time, dark clouds were not a good sign.

 

There was an eerie stillness to their world is silenced plagued their tiny boat and their realm for a few seconds more before it was violently shattered by an unfortunately close sounding rumple and a brilliant flash of light appearing mere seconds later.

 

“It’s close.” Alaka’i concluded and Tui nodded in agreement. The manai suddenly crawled over to the edge of the drua, trailing his hand in the water as the vessel bobbed delicately in the water.

 

“The water’s warm.” He frowned gravely and looked up to the horizon, now blocked by a wall of precipitation. A large gust of wind blew across the sea, the waves scattering haphazardly in small laplets as Alaka’i bolted to the sail and pulled the rigging so the sail slammed shut with a sound so startlingly loud both of them flinched and cringed.

 

“Maybe it’s just a monsoon?” The other teen seemed desperately hopeful, releasing a tiny fearful smile that disappeared almost as soon as it surfaced, realizing that it was hopeless to assume otherwise.

 

Tui stared at the wall of rain, biting the edge of his lip. “Either way, we need to try and steer away from--” A drop of water picked into his back, the small bead stinging against his skin as he realized that there would be no sailing around this front.

 

“What now?”

 

He clutched the rigging with his breathless question, waiting for some kind of order as more rain began to fall in steadily increasing numbers, clearly needing some sort of guidance. The manai felt the lump in his throat quiver as fear clawed around the spot where that first warm drop spattered on his spine, needles of an urchin digging into his nerves as he again felt his lover’s eyes burning into his turned back. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was at a loss for words. They were surrounded on all sides, the water was warm, their sail could be damaged and both of them had begun their first sailing lesson hours ago. Sailing through that storm and living with their canoe in tact carried no possible chance of survival.

 

But that’s what he’d thought back on Motunui… there had to be a way out.

 

“Tie your hair.” He answered. Alaka’i’s face tensed, completely lost as Tui turned to face him, standing up. “Just do it.” He reaffirmed. Not willing to question him at a time like this, he complied as Tui took the rigging, giving it a tug as the sail unfurled with an grateful yet worrying sound as the leader of the two surveyed the damage.

 

There was a hairline tear at the edge nearest the small mast, the off white cloth sail stretching to it’s full length after a few loose tugs with his best effort. They would have to fix that later. For now, they needed to get through this system, and the now steady rain told him that unless they had their sail out there was no chance of coasting through a typhoon.

 

Tying the rope to the post, he was stopped from moving to the front by Alaka’i who placed a hand on his shoulder. The distant fear in his eyes quivered with his pupils. His bangs and lengths of black hair were swooped up in his usual bun, but seeing the hair parted from his forehead showed every rain-soaked pore, every bare part of his face showed his true lack of preparedness, for what exactly Tui couldn’t and wouldn’t say. He stared at him, placing his own hand on his lovers and massaging it before pressing his forehead forward and connecting the two of them with a breath of life that even the darkness of the storm couldn't snuff out. Their relationship had weathered everything the gods could’ve thrown at them. There would be no way he would let this happen. Not on his watch, especially knowing that Alaka’i didn’t know how to swim.

 

“You’ll be okay.” He whispered comfortingly. “I promised you.”

 

He felt him nodding quietly in agreement before pulling away. “I’m sorry.” He admitted.

 

“Don’t be.” Tui smiled softly as he kissed him in the rain. “Just keep close to the mast and you’ll be safe.” He warned as the boat began to stir with the brewing waves.

 

Obeying his orders and grasping the rigging in his hand as he crouched close to the deck, Tui took the other side as he took hold of the other rope on the starboard side, their first wave pulling them at a higher angle as the rain began to become less of a patter and more of a downpour, the droplets sticking their skin like the needle which was used for countless p’ea, only instead of one continuous tap of the point, it was everywhere. But even with the burning sheets, the first wave wasn’t as bad as Tui had assumed it would be.

 

“We’ve got this.” He called as he squinted, another flash of light forcing his other hand to shield his eyes as Alaka’i yielded to the deck to avoid the blinding light on the horizon, clutching the sail to keep it as straight as he could and blow through the storm.

 

Alaka’i said something beneath a vicious howl of wind, the sheets of water bruning like urchin points. Another wave reared it’s cresting head, only a stone’s throw between the lump in the sea and their tiny drua. The once tiny wavelets which sloshed around their hull were a distant memory as they passed the next one with Tui crouching and gritting his teeth as his heart lurched into his mouth, trying to shout something as the wind grew increasingly louder.

 

He felt something rip from his waist as his tepeneu sailed off into the distance, leaving him in his breechcloth as he felt the sail tear his arms forward and he was nearly dragged off his feet and tossed carelessly as Maui into the ocean’s wrath.   

  

The salty air stung his vision with the rain as he threw his own weight back and the sail righted itself, Alaka’i clearly doing the same to avoid the pressure damaging the sail any further.

 

The merciless sea pounded it’s violent waves as he feet suddenly were submerged, his head craning downwards as the weight left his body. For a moment he floated as he wondered if he had simply blacked out and was hidden in  a waterlogged nightmare, but the flashing white against the deathly black sky snapped him back to reality and the manai was sent crumbling to his knees as the sudden force  of what had to have been their fifth wave threw him off his feet as water sloshed aboard. Foam and salt burned the soles of his feet as they dug themselves into the dampening wood, desperate for a foothold like Alaka’i had as he was now forcing himself between the mast and the rigging, desperately trying to keep his strong hold as Tui contemplated joining him.

 

Then there was a snap and his arm was suddenly on fire. The pressure collapsed and his hand screamed in blistering pain, his bones forced into a limiting, rigid stalemate as the rope he’d been holding had broken under the tension and let go. The boat rocked randomly in the mountainous waves as he was thrown forward, barely holding his balance before another explosion of motion at the hull sent him flying backwards through the air until a hand and arm threw itself around his ankle, pulling with weary strength clearly needed elsewhere to keep what was left of the sail intact. His head had connected with the hard surface of the deck only moments prior and the world swam over his weakening eyes.

 

The sail whined over the wind as Alaka’i shouted and anchored his boyfriend to the mast with him, the massive sheet above them giving way in the wind without any means of support and the rest of the ropes were quickly compromised. The fear once so prevalent was gone as he threw himself at his designated rope and fell gingerly forward as they reached the climax on another monstrous wave, keeping the nearly ruined sail hugged tightly to his chest.

 

Tui’s head spun as he wrapped both arms around the mast, unable to see clearly with his vision still reeling. His arm was in enough pain he was crying, but the unrelenting wind drowned out any sound he dared make. Worst of all he was idle, and Alaka’i was doing the last of what could be done to keep them afloat as the next submergence of foamy waves threatened to capsize them at literally any moment. Through the pain he felt blood on his tongue and a bruise the back of his head, the muscles in his neck screaming in agony that suggested he’d taken a serious blow to the from that incident.

 

There was a tingling sensation in the back of his eyes but Tui didn’t care. Through his focusing vision he could see the beginning of the largest wave they’d yet encountered. This wouldn’t just be one that would give their boat air, but one that promised to take them both under unless they both worked to keep the sail straight, otherwise the wind would snap it off at easily as Maui would snap a coconut palm in half like a twig. Alaka’i clearly was struggling to keep the sheet steady as the winds whipped around him, pushing him each way to the side mercilessly like two teasing bullies. The manai took his opportunity and tossed himself at the end of the rigging, catching it with both hands and pulling as he felt the world drop out from under him and he could see every abnormality in the wicked, black clouds which serged with a living heart beat like a simmering rage.

 

He felt his hair whipping around his features as Alaka’i took the extra help, the two of them pulling together to ensure they got over the wave. The vertical climb sent shivers down the two teens spines and their anxiety flashed through their stomachs as the storm raged on in an unrelenting march to end them both on the open sea more matter how much they persevered. The drua tipped over the head of the wave just barely turning at the needed angle and careening down the length of its warm blue back as the collapsing wave roared like a monster straight from the darkest depths of Lalotai. Coasting straight down another wave crashed aboard and they were suddenly up to their knees as Tui wrapped his free arm around Alaka’i’s waist to prevent him from losing his footing. They were barely hanging on at this point as it was becoming clear the former toa was growing exhausted from throwing his entire weight around more than a few times within the span of what felt like hours now.  

 

Then, a sudden brutal gust from the side shoved the weary teen past the mast as he stumbled and Tui was nearly pulled off his feet without anything else to keep hold, the raw flesh of his hands burning like he was squeezing hot coals between each finger, dancing with Te Ka. He threw his head to the side and abandoned his hold on the rope while he lept across the deck as his lover began to fall dangerously close to the side of the canoe. Barely catching him before he hit the deck there was a terrible sound of ripping fabric that came from behind as the once hairline tear exploded into a massive hole in the brutal wind which filled their sail. Just as Tui expected the sheet to be reduced to mere tatters behind him, he watched the trunk bend and snap, narrowly throwing Alaka’i and himself towards the deck and avoiding being knocked unconscious or being sliced to thatching. Holding tight to his arms, he moved his collapsing patient across the soaked deck towards the splinters of the mast and Alaka’i’s arms wearily snaked around it, Tui crawling back to the rudder as it jerked around erratically in the crashing waves. Roping his arms to the pole, a sudden wave crashed aboard and pushed him carelessly to the side. The salt water stung his ears and bruised skin as he held on for dear life, and felt his arms jerk violently to the side as the rudder was suddenly jammed into a splintered crevice of the hull, and the entire vessel veered to the left lazily in the turbulent waters.

 

There was a brilliant flash of light that blinded him through the soaked hair that shrouded his face. The strength left his arms and legs as he turned around, a dark shadow blocking the next immediate flash as a deafening explosion of sound left his ears ringing. His back dug into the pole and his eyes widened in awe and horror, mouth parting lamely as his neck craned upwards.

 

Above their bone-soaked canoe, a massive shadow enveloped them and the sea for a great distance behind them. The cold, royal blue water coursed with a beating pulse as it veered over them in a magnificent crescent, the foamy tips quivering from the body as they were rattled by a violent breeze. The wave crested at its massive size, holding in its pulse for a brief moment, It was a thing to marvel at, a wave the size of the mighty Te Fiti at her full height, despite the imminent danger. For a split second, the wind ceased it’s mighty howling as the water shielded them in it’s grip. Tui only had a moment to dive for Alaka’i before the world dropped out from under him and their boat began to tip backwards. He could hear the deck and ama snapping like twigs under the weight of the water as the mountainous wave ended their drua he’d once thought was built for these waters. He felt his stomach lurch as he sailed through the air and saw him flailing lifelessly like a doll, eyes wide in horror as he hit the water back first, disappearing under the waves.

 

His body twisted as he smacked into the churning seas, his back searing with burning pain as his nerves reacted to the sudden cold touch of the water, warmth quickly enveloping his chest and his arms weak. He barely managed to suck in a breath as his eyes fluttered open, the microscopic air bubbles flooding his hazy vision in the fractals of watery light from above. He felt a sickening salty taste in his nose and mouth, his joints screaming in an agonizing soreness. He heard pieces of the ama slice into the water like spears, their sharpened tips penetrating the water and seamlessly gliding before sinking down to the depths. It was almost as if Ora were casting his wrath into Tangaroa with every piece of arsenal he could lay his hands on.

 

Then he saw a limp shape, one arm reaching weakly as it pulled for the air. He could see a the horror in his eyes as it suddenly became clear to them he was not going to resurface unless Tui did something, his arms and legs too weak to attempt more than a lame paddle. The manai threw his weight to the surface and then to the water, taking a massive breath before swimming down towards the sinking teen. Then a streak of black sliced past them and a massive bubble of oxygen escaped Alaka’i’s mouth with a blossoming cloud of red from his injured arm. His chest shook with coughs and his eyes rolled back into his head.

 

Tui fought the urge to scream as he kicked harder, pushing every muscle possible to a backstroke. The water pulsed and practically frothed with his movements as he forced himself to swim for dear life, teeth gritted through the coppery taste of the blood where he’d bitten his tongue. He felt the saltwater from his eyes join the saltwater in the sea.

 

He pushed and pushed, but no matter how hard he swam down it seemed like some invisible force was keeping him suspended in the barrier of the shallows as his ears suddenly popped and the pressure around his lungs increased. Alaka’i continued to drown, now motionless with one hand stretched out for Tui to pull him up, waving lamely like a leaf in a gentle breeze.

 

The manai forced himself into a last ditch paddle as his muscles screamed for relief, forcing his arm out as he grabbed for his lover before he could be taken from him. One final kick and he swung his arm for the former toa.

 

It wrapped around his necklace of cowrie shells. For a split second Tui tugged, desperately hoping it would give him even an inch more.

 

But the necklace snapped effortlessly off of his neck, barely jerking his head up before he drifted into the darkness of the sea. Tui shouted as loud as he could, desperately hoping that he would wake up, kick just once-- just once and then he could be saved.

 

But his lungs burned from lack of oxygen as he realized this was it. Bile burned his throat through his tears as he forced himself to turn back, leaving Alaka’i to disappear into the empty depths of the ocean.

 

Drowned. Dead. Because of him.

 

Throwing his head above the water he was barely able to take a breath before another flash of lightning hit and he could barely see a shape nearby, the shadow illuminating a long, familiar shape. Forcing himself to swim over to it, he threw his arms around the empty hull and pressed his face to the wood, unable to keep himself from crying any longer as the rain beat into his back and he nursed his swelling hands and the bruises. There was an abrasion on his lower arm he did hadn’t even noticed he’d received until another flash of lightning showed the stormy seas around him. For a brief moment, he considered pulling himself towards one of the bigger waves. He’d have to join Alaka’i eventually out here unless there was some sort of miracle.

 

But shivering in his shattered heart, he bit his cheek and hugged the hull tight, Motunui or anyplace nowhere to be found on the heartless expanse of the cold and deadly sea. Soaked to the bone and exhausted, he found himself drifting to sleep again, now continuing on his journey a mere lone voyager.

  
Without his innocent warrior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See what I did there? Augh writing this was really sad! Next chapter should be up soon!


	7. One Day You'll Learn Just As I Did

The days of the week seemed to inch by at a crawling pace. Tui felt as though there were snails who moved faster than time did, especially when it came to his injuries. The mango incident did come to mind, although despite his physical pain it had felt significantly more sickening and exhausting as he was left with a basket and his mother’s stories to keep him from stewing on his bed. At least then he felt his mortality and felt the acid in his throat as he heaved and sweated.

 

This time, it was no comparison. Every muscle in his body ached with fierce intensity and begged with each miniscule movement for more rest. It was a painful operation to even sit up on his pallet in the mornings and rise with the sun. His right arm had sustained severe joint damage from the sail tearing it around and it was clear to the village healers that he’d suffered a slight head injury from the collision he’d had with the deck of their stolen boat-- and they had yet to even count the bruises and abrasions they could see scarred every uncomfortable inch of his body.

 

All of his injuries were of little consequence to Tala and Sina constantly visiting and ensuring his every need was catered to and news of the mana’i’s sudden return to shore spread throughout Motunui like wildwire. He’d lost count of the number of villagers that had crammed themselves into his lackluster schedule and extended family who had given him wishes of health and fortune and he didn’t have the heart or energy to turn them down. He’d greeted them as calmly and simply as he could, thanking them for their words and enthusiasm, but there was still one piece of his home still missing.

 

Alaka’i.

 

When the far side fishermen had found him lame on the hull of his raft and shaken him awake, he’d barely managed two seconds of consciousness before blacking out. He had tried to ask where he was, and everyone knew to whom he was referring. Nobody indulged in the unconscious teens’ questions, and so they went unanswered and he was left with an uncomfortable reality in a room he couldn’t leave. In the delusions he’d been wandering through in his two days on the water he could hardly tell the sky from the ocean or a chicken from a tree. He’d thought the entire journey was a horrible nightmare and that he had set out alone to find someplace for all three of them-- Alaka’i and Sina both, to build a new life.

 

He’d barely kept his composure when no word appeared and Sina finally had to shatter his false hopes that his best friend would eventually return full mast and alive, only then remembering his still body drifting to the sea floor. It was something he had been in denial about for only a couple of days, but even so the desire to accept his friend merely eternally lost was so strong Sina had literally had to slap him across the face to get some sense to him-- something she definitely regretted doing to him when it was hard not to see his reasons for wanting it to be true. No answer was better than the one he had.

 

Kanaloa had been uncomfortably distant despite Tui’s assumption that he would be glad his heir had returned. Tala, in her classic manner, had refused to sugarcoat her husband’s emotions or feelings towards Tui’s abandonment of his home and role-- but as always, she solidly acknowledged both stubborn parties. Tui saw escape his only chance and couldn’t see the possible selfishness of his actions whereas Kanaloa lacked the empathy his son had craved and only, in his spite, had wanted an heir to his legacy.

 

Neither side felt right apologizing, but both women closest to their respective men knew the stalemate would likely have to end the moment Tui was able to walk again.

 

But he didn’t-- and not for a lack of peak physical condition. He had been, since Sina left him silent and shocked following her reveal of the truth, a hollow shell in quiet isolation as a word slipped in by her to Tala ended his contact with his people aside from the healers who changed his bandages and checked his vitals for any change, and even then sparse conversation occurred. Kanaloa had been furious; but Tala had kept her foot down.

 

Tui didn’t question his mother’s actions. He appreciated them more than anyone realized. Even though Sina as well as his mother were granted special permission to visit, they knew better than to prod a wave to crest-- It was a pointless endeavor. Tala trusted in her wisdom that her son needed time to understand and comprehend his losses, as little consequence as they might have seemed to the council and his father.  

 

But if Kanaloa and the council were sure of anything, it was that Tala did know best, and she knew what was best for her son. Her assertion was final, and there was no power on earth that could change her once she made up her mind.

 

The son of the chief spent his initial days of shock in almost constant sleep, not only following the healer’s orders to rest but also to avoid the silence and marauding thoughts that plagued his conscious moments. But the nightmares were no consolation.

 

He could hardly go an hour in day or night without seeing the still body of his lover disappearing; dying, when he could do nothing to save him or even say goodbye. It left him with a cold sweat whenever he opened his eyes to see only the shadows of the healers off in the corner mashing herbs to powder or hear the mumblings of their thoughts instead of the dark, deadly water or the wind piercing his eardrums.

 

By the fifth day, the swelling on his bruises had dissipated and the abrasions were fading to scars. His arm still hurt to move but nowhere near as terribly as before. He could easily sit up and occasionally left his bed if only to avoid turning to stone in his sleep but he hardly felt ready physically or emotionally to take on Motunui… much less admit to anyone that he’d thought he was right to abandon them for the man he loved.    

 

“You can’t stay in here forever, you know.” Sina told him on day six, sitting on her knees by Tui’s pallet where he lounged, arms supporting his back and legs lame before him under a light woven mat.

 

“I can damn well try.” He resolved, huffing.

 

“That’s hardly realistic.” She frowned. “You know the council won’t wait much longer. Your mother said their patience is wearing thin.”

 

The manai massaged his eyelids. They didn’t care for him knowing his disregard for their deeply held traditions-- that much was all too clear -- but he knew deep down that his father would be running out of excuses to start training one of his cousins to continue the line despite the fact that he was alive and well.

 

“Which cousin are they considering?” Was all he could ask. Sina shook her head.

 

“Their not telling me that. All I can say is if you have any desire to...” She paused as her eyes fell to the floor as she struggled to find the correct words. “Be our chief, you can’t rely on your injuries to buy you more time. The healers are reporting what they see and you’re nearing a clean bill of health. If you don’t show up in the _fale_ soon…”

 

Tui cut her off with the raise of his hand, trying to keep himself from collapsing as he’d done the night his life had practically ended. His eyes were pricking with tears and his mouth clenched in a tight frown. His brows knitted tightly as his shoulders started shaking. Sina tentatively placed a hand on his arm and like that the warmth of her touch made him unravel.

 

It was a mess. A big, unfair mess. He’d barely been able to keep himself rested and his crisis of chiefdom was being dangled in front of his face once again, reminding him of how little anyone else even cared to acknowledge the loss he’d been forced to take one way or the other. It tore at his insides as he leaned into the girl who’d been so much to him through his nightmarish ordeals; who held onto him as he mourned. It killed him to think what he’d done to prevent Alaka’i’s separation from him only for him to be ripped from his life anyway. What he’d sacrificed, who he’d hurt. It all meant nothing to them. How could they even think of taunting him by taking away his namesake and his right when he was being forced to lose the only light that made it worth braving the darkness?

 

“I can’t go out there, Sina.” He lowered his head as his composure returned. “How can I tell them I willingly abandoned Motunui for him? They won’t understand.”

 

“What good would hiding from them do?” She questioned. “If you don’t admit it you’ll be nothing more than a coward to them. You’ll be… Tui.”

 

He stared towards the mat which covered the entrance, ensuring their privacy from the island. If he couldn’t be understood either way, what was there for him to lose? The people still obviously cared but what would become of it if they knew the real reason for his departure? Gossip was privy and prime on such a small island. What would there even be left to salvage of his chiefdom?

 

“What if that’s what’s best now?”

 

There was a lengthy silence that followed his question and realization. Sina was left dumbfounded by it. How could someone once so devoted to his home and his destiny be asking such a question? She was left with no answer other than that was who he was.

 

She knew no better response. “Whatever you decide to do, I promise I’ll always be there to support you-- chief or no -- you’re more than worthy of it.”

 

To live a normal life was something Tui had occasionally fantasized about in the few moments of his youth and more often than not when he found the initial pressures of his role to be tedious and mundane as well as overbearing. Farming his keep and remaining still in good class amongst his own with Alaka’i by his side were cohesive dreams that alluded reality and something he knew could never mix. His desire to help his people and guide them was nearly destroyed in his desire to find happiness with someone he knew his title couldn’t allow. Even with Sina in his place it was a pleasant and tantalizing world that laid before him; one devoid of titles, serious decisions, and endless time to share the paradise of his home with whatever children they could be blessed to raise together as a family. The days to spend working, helping, building his future stone by stone for himself and his island… they were dreams to be had. He’d never thought for more than a moment’s notice that he’d ever get that chance.

 

It had never been within his grasp, and it seemed so close he could taste the sweet, ripening fruits of his labor. Never had he been given the choice of having his cake and eating it too. Sina promised to stay, and nothing was out there for him any longer on the open, endless sea.

 

But still a heavyweight bound his chances. He frowned.

 

“Father would never allow me to give it up.”

 

Sina didn’t nod, however. She merely studied her friend and sighed, her shoulders sinking and her gaze dulling through half lidded eyes. “Maybe he would.” She answered simply.

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“No, I don’t, Tui.” They were rounding this topic again and it irritated her. “But what have you got to lose at this point? You’ve already tried leaving and it nearly killed you! You’re acting like a coward not to even give your father the chance!”

 

“I already did.” He growled, remembering his fight before he’d decided to leave. “All it did was prove that tradition is more important to him than my happiness! Unless he hit his head at some point between now and then why would he ever be in a forgiving mood?”

 

“And what you’re doing now is no better than what he did.” Her gaze hardened into a heated stare. “You’re both such stubborn little children and neither of you will admit you’re wrong because you’re too afraid to budge!”

 

His face grew hot. “I’m the one who went out into the ocean--”

 

“No,” Sina cut him off. “You’re the one who ran away from his island, abandoned his family and friends, and sunk his boat before day one! I told you running away can’t fix your problems, Tui; when will you see that?”

 

“I know that now and I’m not running away! Sina you know he’ll never listen to me after what I did. All those things you said are true, I don’t want to admit it, but they are. But even if I did apologize what good would it do? He never sees success after so much failure and especially from his own son. He couldn’t even look at me after he found out about--” He hiccuped at his name. “About us. He couldn’t even bear to think his precious heir was becoming the tabu nightmare he feared. I not only broke status but broke his most sacred law.”

 

“No one goes beyond the reef.” Sina finished.

 

“And what do you think he’ll say to me after avoiding visiting me for almost a week after leaving? If he couldn’t look at me then he clearly doesn’t feel any different now.” He gibed.

 

“Maybe you just need to talk things out with him.” She countered. “He might have had a change of heart.”

 

“And maybe I need to disappear.”

 

“You’ll never know unless you actually try.” She refused to break her stare. “Please, Tui. Wouldn’t he want you to talk things out? He never did.”

 

He nearly winced at the mention with his wounds still fresh and raw. He didn’t even have to ask initially. No, Alaka’i wouldn’t have wanted him to talk things through with his father. The sneaking around, the fear, the sleepless nights spent wondering if they’d be found out tomorrow or at the next harvest. The impossible amounts of anxiety he’d caused them over their relationship were merely the tip of the taro as far as either of them were concerned.

 

And yet... his uncle came to mind.

 

He’d sounded so defeated that night, packing his belongings and food, weighing the essential to the nonessential with fear tightly wedged in his throat. Even when they’d set out, the lack of clarity or closure left him hollow and seemingly separated. The mystery of his uncle’s final words had haunted him into the afterlife, and even so he lacked true approval from the last family member he had. He’d never stated his blessing, nothing of Tui at all and it had to have resonated that there seemed to be a knowledge shared between uncle and nephew that they would not be apart for long-- long enough that closure over courting the chief to be could wait until he saw him once more.

 

Of course, his own father was nowhere near mortality. He had at least another five years before he had to consider the end was near. Another five years to avoid the topic-- to avoid the closure and drag his son through the mud to cultivate tension. But that was being ridiculously unrealistic. They were family and on top of that rulers. Motunui couldn’t wait for them to resolve the issue until their chieftain's deathbed.

 

There was nothing else to say on the matter. Alaka’i would’ve killed for the closure Tui was too afraid to obtain, and his duty called him to act, whether he was ready for it or not.

 

Sina seemed to notice this resolvement and shot him a small smile before leaning in and kissing him. Strangely, Tui didn’t object even in his tender state. Having convinced her friend to continue moving forward, she stood up and walked towards the doorway.

 

“Sina?” She halted, her hand on the mat’s edge. She faced him as he sent her a smile. “Thank you.”

 

She fondly returned the favor and nodded. “He’s at the _fale tele_ whenever you need him.”

 

* * *

 

The next morning was one of mixed emotions for the manai.

 

His mind made up the day before to fix things or at the very least acknowledge his mistakes, he’d spent the rest of the afternoon once Sina left deliberating what he could possibly say to lessen the clear intentions he’d had that day. He’d debated sugar coating his actions. He’d thought about pushing the offensive angle. He’d even practised his words to abdicate, if it came to that. He assumed he likely wouldn’t be alone for his conversation. The village council would no doubt be there to listen in and pass their judgements as a jury. Careful consideration meant the complete and whole truth would likely end in bitter fighting-- something he knew better than to engage in after all the sour words and cruelty shared between the parent and his son.

 

He had barely touched his food the night before the fateful talk, and finished a coconut Sina had brought him. HIs stomach refused to cooperate out of sheer anxiety over the moment. His sleep had been fitful and no less nightmarish plagued than any night previously and he’d awoken several times in the darkness and solitude of the healing room to the gushing of the tides and rush of the currents that could be heard from behind him. The sounds of the ocean, if anything, fueled his fears more than anything. It almost seemed spiteful, the way the demon played it’s games.

 

By morning he was exhausted and nearly forced himself to call it off, knowing whether he did so today or tomorrow was in the end, up to him. But the threat of his removal by the healers and the council’s pressures reminded him being chief meant being ready to lead his people at a moment’s notice-- not suspending his role for the sake of a restless night.

 

So he changed into his patterned _ie’toga_ over his red _tepenu_ , brought in the night before by Tala without a word exchanged, combed out his frazzled hair, and paced the rather small room, trying to consider his best defense.

 

With the sun climbing higher into the sky, he resolved his chosen words, and emerged into the light of the new day. The intake of the lush vegetation and the vibrant neons and soft pastels of nature were nearly blinding after six days in a white room with fleeting glances at the world outside. The saccharine scent of wild hibiscus, torch ginger, and paper flowers made the paradise of his home all the more painful to witness after his attempts to sail beyond the reef. Such rugged natural beauty had been captivating for generations, and even fascinated him well into his teenage years. He’d lost count of the wandering he’d done in his childhood through gardens, jungles and meadows, wasting the day under the sun and enjoying the splendor of his seemingly infinite world.

 

Following the path to the _fale tele_ was unfamiliar in the manner he now walked. He’d so often practiced the ceremony with the whole of his people watching as his father and mother both donned their headdresses and walked to the daily meetings joined at the hands as their people gathered in procession and the members of their _aiga_ would listen and debate the matters of the day. It was much more ceremonious and public than he’d ever preferred, and walking alone with only his _ie’toga_ symbolising his importance was a strange feeling indeed, especially as the few villagers he ran into merely nodded, not acknowledging his role or place one way or another. It seemed as if Tala’s ban on visitors arbitrarily extended to outside the healing _fale._

 

It was preferable to being bothered constantly, but it was also not particularly endearing when people refused to speak to him at all. While yes, he was still torn up over his duties and Alaka’i, it would’ve been nice to feel acknowledged.

 

But then again, he didn’t think he deserved much, considering his desertion. He scolded himself for wanting what he knew he didn’t truly deserve, but respect was dismissable. Acknowledgement was polite. It was something Alaka’i had never received unless he’d done something particularly admirable.

 

But he ignored the feeling of emptiness in his stomach and continued until the foreboding shadow of the open pavilion eclipsed his path and the cool breeze of the mid morning current greeted him, the foamy waves crashing softly on the not so distant shore. The grass roof’s fibers quivered in the wind as his legs felt useless, knowing what likely awaited him. He could see the _aiga_ chattering inside on their mats, the sounds of their debate growing clearer as he rounded the bend in the dirt pathway and stood before the stone steps that would carry him to his fate.

 

The massive coconut columns were laces with several bunches of flowers-- nowhere near the thousands that decorated the column when the family walked towards it like they did once every new moon for tradition sake. The cool shade embraced his growing form as the talk and mumbling suddenly cut out in silence.

 

His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. He could see his parents sitting at the head of the circular group, his father having held up a banded wrist to end the currant discussion. Tala and Kanaloa shared a look for a moment as Tui’s presence was processed by the _aiga_. In an instant the weakness vanished, now replaced with a frothing courage.

 

He could feel their eyes watching them, especially the elders of the council both men and women alike, observing the sprouting youth through withered eyes. Silence prevailed for a long period of time as his father lowered his hand.

 

“I declare this meeting adjourned until further notice!” He declared, his voice echoing in the chambers. Mumblings of confusion and irritation from some persisted as the couple shared gazes amongst themselves. “This is a personal matter. All of you are free to go.”

 

With his explanation Tui walked further into the _fale tele_ as the _aiga_ young and old silently removed themselves from the vicinity, rolling their mats up and depositing them around the edges of the building before streaming out the entrance and back to their lives. Only his parents and the council remained behind.

 

Kanaloa looked over at the twelve people who remained in their designated space and cleared his throat. “You are dismissed.” He hinted.

 

One by one the elders got up and walked out past Tui. Few seemed to bear any manner of ill will, however at least three of them, all men, walked past him wearily, as if suspicious of him. Kanaloa then turned to Tala, who took the hint and picked herself up before taking her _tapa_ mat and moving it so it was poised directly across from the chieftain. After this, she walked towards Tui, performed _hongi_ , and gave him a thumbs up.

 

He wished he could’ve believed it, but he was gratefully alone with his father. After his mother walked down the main steps, ensuring their solitude, Kanaloa motioned for Tui to sit on the mat Tala had moved, likely for him. Tui moved slowly as he kept a straight face, and lowered himself to his knees.

 

His father looked slightly worse for the wear in the darkness of the _fale_ and as far as Tui could see it looked as if the leader of his island had shared his son’s sleeping problems judging from the lines under his eyes. His once jet black hair as it had been in Tui’s childhood now had several gray lines added to what had been before his departure, and something about him seemed more… somber-- even tired.

 

But his age and appearance aside, his demeanor was, as typical, an enigma at times and especially now. The silence continued until the chief broke it.

 

“You wished to speak with me, Tui?”

 

He took a breath, disappointment crashing into him like a rogue wave. He swore he almost sagged with his response. “Yes father.”

 

“And what about now?”

 

The next words were bitter to regurgitate. “My abdication.”

 

At this his cool stare widened into one of abject confusion. “Your abdication? What for?”

 

“Sina told me everything.” Tui folded his hands as his head listed downwards. “About how the council is considering others to become chief. She didn’t say that but I know it’s possible. I know many of them are displeased with me and my actions.”

 

“So is this what you want?” His father countered quickly without a hint of anger which the manai found rather jarring given his explosion involving their fight before.

 

Tui forced himself to weigh his options and had been doing so ever since Sina had floated the possibility his way. He’d paced his room for hours at a time considering the pros and cons of an ordinary life when he’d been given the opportunity to do much more than anyone else of Motunui could’ve even dreamed of accomplishing. He’d thought of the people, _his_ people, the ones who treated him as more and as less all the same when most of the time he wanted nothing more than to be with them rather than above them. The same people as Alaka’i and Sina both victimized by their place and role on this island. The laws that had forced him to give one of them up. The traditions that plagued his transition and the tortures of knowing coexistence in the form of a duty and a relationship were nothing but a fantasy too far to reach.

 

What could he change to ensure the past was never repeated? His own people-- his own children -- would he ever want them to suffer as he had? Had Tala been correct in her words that he could change things once his ascended the _fale tele_?

 

He didn’t know. But he be damned if he were to let anyone else feel unincluded because of arbitrary social systems that had gone out of style years ago. He would never let the opportunity to improve the lives of those he cherished to be made equal to that of himself slip away from him. It simply wasn't right by him.

 

He shook his head at his father. Kanaloa’s lips curved into a prideful smile.

 

“I hadn’t thought so... at least, not now. But I couldn’t blame you if you did. I meant what I said to you before, son, when I took you up to the Place of Chiefs. If you decided there was something out there that was more to you than becoming chief I had made my peace with accepting that. But on the matter of who, unfortunately, is where I lost sight of things.”

 

Tui felt wobbly on his knees as his father’s smile disappeared.

 

“Was I becoming tabu?” He accused.

 

Kanaloa’s brows raised, surprised. A moment passed as he thought on the question and took a breath and sighed with it. “No, Tui. Not to me.”

 

“Then what was that whole fight even about?” His voice was beginning to rise. It hardly sounded like his father believed what he’d just said. “Did you even care about him at all?”

 

“Who? The boy who you cared for?”

 

“ _Alaka’i_.” He seethed. “The man I loved and who died when we left.”

 

“Tui you know my job is to see to it that everyone on this island is cared for.” He continued in a level voice, being slightly defensive to avoid either one of them blowing up. “I know he meant the world to you. I know you loved him.”

 

“And you also knew that love was forbidden. Your _job_ seems to be more about upholding the laws that kept him and others as the lowest rank. Did you ever actually consider what being called a Toa, Tohunga, Mana can do to a person? He felt trapped because of his place father. Alaka’i was a selfless person who was forced to work alone because of an arbitrary social standing that kept him below deserving food or help. No matter what he did there was no improving things to him. I was all he had left when his uncle died!”

 

“It sounds to me like you were helping him out of pity.” He quipped.

 

He felt rage coursing through his being as he responded, his voice quivering with anger over his father’s accusation. “I helped him because I _loved_ him! I loved him for who he was as a person-- not the title or the hardships! Do you have any idea how much easier my life would have been had we not been forced to hide and pretend we weren’t together because of our different classes? If he were Mana or even Tohunga there would be no problem. But because of a tradition that means nothing now, he felt trapped. _We_ felt trapped.”

 

“Enough to abandon your home for a pointless adventure on the sea? Boats never come back Tui. You knew the rules but apparently that one didn’t matter to you either did it?”

 

“What choice did we have?” His eyes narrowed. “If we had stayed he would have been _killed_. Don’t even try to deny that.”

 

“The matter would’ve gone to the council.” Kanaloa corrected. “The punishment would’ve come through them.”

 

“And don’t think I didn’t notice the looks some of them gave me when they left us for this chat. The punishment would’ve meant misery for both of us and all that would’ve been accomplished then was we’d just leave after. I never wanted it to happen like that.”

 

“What are you talking about?” He seemed perplexed.

 

“I never wanted to be chief of Motunui just to stay on this island. I wanted to sail… I wanted to voyage again! I never wanted to have to run away to get that and all it did was get him killed. Because of this tradition I can’t look at the ocean anymore without seeing him; without seeing him dying. Do you have any clue what that’s like? Being afraid of something you loved?”

 

He slowly shook his head. “Is that truly what you both felt?”

 

Alaka’i was afraid of his home and Tui now of the ocean. Tui easily would’ve responded in a snide manner but he felt exhausted and irritated from this conversation, still unsure if he had gotten anywhere with him.

 

“We didn’t have anything but each other. We both felt abandoned. We both felt unwanted. We both thought it was the only way out. I’d already felt that way before looking out at the sea, and our fight made me think it was us against the world. You made me abandon Motunui.”

 

The accusation settled in the air like a fine dust. Silence prevailed as if the slightest breath or movement would destroy all harmony within the world and beyond. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kanaloa nodded.

 

“I…” He stumbled, clearly still processing the words Tui had been afraid most to say. “I should’ve known this was coming. There was so much I should’ve said instead of what I did and I know I can’t ever take back what I did-- what I made you think or feel or forced you to do. I’m sorry, son. Not just for Alaka’i, but for everything. I’m sorry for making you feel like I ever wasn’t proud of you, like you weren’t what I wanted in an heir or a son. I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to choose between your happiness and your role-- pleasing me or Motunui. You don’t ever deserve that and you never did. I was just too afraid of losing it all.”

 

“Losing it all?” Tui echoed.

 

“Losing their trust in you. Losing your trust in me. I was a fool and a selfish one at that. I was too afraid of losing my only son and the moment you left all I could think was that the last words I said to you were ones of spite and banishment.”

 

Tui’s eyes lowered to the floor, guilt suddenly coming over him. Had he actually thought that nobody would miss him?

 

“I treated you like an heir instead of a son. And not just when we fought-- I did it every day. Every time I forced you to spend working to become a chief. I could only see myself in you. I’d forgotten what parts of your mother you’d kept buried away.”

 

“She always was that way, wasn’t she?”

 

“That was why I loved her. That’s why I noticed her. She was a free spirit and a balance to my blindness. She was the compassion and grace that I can fail to be. She still is to this day. She made a fine wife and mother, better than I could ever be to you. You’re more like her than you realize.”  

 

“Don’t let mother hear you say that. You’ll never hear the end of it.” He actually felt himself laughing and his father shared a small chuckle, still reserved as always.

 

“I always thought that being rigid was all I could do to keep you prepared. She was never one for that… Alaka’i wasn’t either, was he?”

 

Tui’s smile disappeared, the mention of an actual kindhearted question in front of so much open hostility and ignorance rather shocking. But it was pointless ruining what openness hed finally achieved, so he indulged.

 

“He never let himself frown, even when he was at his worst. I knew he was in pain but he always had a smile for everyone-- me especially. He was always the risky one.”

 

 _Until the night I got him killed._ He almost finished as he deflated at the thought.

 

“And what of the Mahi’ai girl?” His father asked.

 

“Sina?” The chief nodded in confirmation. “She helped us go-- she helped us hide. She’s done so much for me and I know I owe her the world. She cares about this place father. They both did, deep down… like I do.”

 

There was a peaceful silence that passed over him as Kanaloa smiled again, the same prideful smile he’d given so many times before.

 

“I’ll talk to the council later tonight about their feelings over your decisions.” He felt the blood flush from his face as fear replaced his comfort. Then the smile on his father changed to a smirk. “I’d appreciate your help in convincing them.”

 

It subsided. He internally breathed a sigh of relief. “When?”

 

“Later tonight. Tala will let you know. Until then eat something. You look rather pale.” He remarked.

 

Tui felt too exhausted to react with more than a weak chuckle of assurance. With their conversation over, he rose from the tapa mat and started to walk out of the _fale tele_. He’d just set one foot on the first step down when he his father called his name.

 

“What is it?” He turned back as his father stood and walked up to his son, something slutched in his right hand. He could see the vibrant coloring and bright red feathers. The stitches of cowries had been removed, but it was still the band he’d worn proudly.

 

Kanaloa pressed it into his hand, cupping Tui’s hand in both his aging ones. They performed _hongi,_ the connection reforged.

 

“If you ever change your mind,” Kanaloa began as he released Tui’s hand. “You know where to find me.”

 

Tui knitted his brows. “But the shells are missing?” He asked, confused.

  
The chief smiled knowingly as he turned away from his son and walked slowly back into the _fale_. “You’ll think of something.”

**Author's Note:**

> I gave him the name Alaka'i which means 'leader,' since it sounded good and I thought it was a good representation of what Tui faces. I did all the research I could for this to make sense since homosexuality was generally accepted back then in Polynesian culture, but class was an issue when it came to romance back then. Anyway, I hope you liked it! Feel free to comment, and any suggestions/criticisms are taken.


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